


Over the Edge

by Airelle



Category: Star Trek: The Original Series
Genre: M/M, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-04-29
Updated: 2012-04-29
Packaged: 2017-11-04 12:11:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 31,882
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/393708
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Airelle/pseuds/Airelle
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Spock must contend with his jealousy about Kirk's tendency to love more than one person at a time...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Over the Edge

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Catlixe](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Catlixe/gifts).



> _First published in T'hy'la 13, March 1994_  
>  _My first - and longest - fanfic!_  
> [](http://s1018.photobucket.com/albums/af310/Ammonet_one/Fandom/?action=view&current=IllocatpourOTE.jpg)  
>   
> [](http://s1018.photobucket.com/user/Ammonet_one/media/gornphotocoyoutline-2.jpg.html)  
>  And I finally managed to embed the images in the story, in full size, this time.  
> I have also added a picture originally made by Catlixe for this story, but the original editor didn't like it and didn't include it in the story. Here it is! Enjoy!

"Let’s get the hell out of here!" Kirk’s voice was very weary. Spock knew why. He had seen the look in Jim’s eyes briefly before he turned to the wall and hid his face from his friends.

Jim had admitted to being in love with Edith Keeler. That had hurt Spock, knowing as he had, that Edith Keeler was destined to die. But the ever-present jealousy had been there too. Spock had raged and seethed inside, seeing Kirk freely acknowledging his feelings for the young woman. The Vulcan had wanted to be anywhere else the day Kirk had said, "Spock, I believe I'm in love with Edith Keeler...” _No!_ his mind had cried. _It is I you love, I you need!_ Obviously it was not so, for Kirk's involvement with Edith had been strong and true, as Spock himself had witnessed.

The Vulcan had known that eventually this love held no future for Jim, as his captain himself must have known, as well. Kirk was too responsible an officer to prevent Edith’s death, knowing exactly the cost to the universe: the stakes were simply too high. But it was a measure of Kirk’s freedom with his feelings, of his ability to reach out to people, no matter the possible suffering he might endure later, that he had been able to love her, in spite of everything.

Spock had to recognize that quality in Kirk as the one without which their relationship might never have been. IT was Kirk, not he, who had initiated the first steps of their intimacy. It was Jim who had taken all the risks, cautiously penetrating the Vulcan barriers Spock had relied on all his life to protect him from being hurt by others. It was his captain who had understood that the barriers were smothering the Vulcan rather than protecting him, and it was under Jim's influence that Spock had come to understand that he needed to change.

Ever so slowly, he had opened himself to the warm friendship Kirk offered so freely, so selflessly. Undemanding, reassuring, this friendship was the exact opposite of everything he had known up until that time.

He knew his parents loved him, even his Vulcan father, but their love had been demanding, asking him to be the perfect Vulcan he could not be, would not be. He had fled into Starfleet to escape the prison of the Vulcan way of love. There he had been an alien to most of his comrades in the Academy, as well as his shipmates later, and had related to everyone only on a professional level. He was respected for his skills and intelligence, his even temperament, but he was not loved. He had had no friends until Kirk.

He found himself thinking tenderly of the early games of chess as the beginnings of their affection.

Once more, he wondered at the effect this man had on him, the ease with which he could go from anger to concern to a tenderness so acute it almost hurt. Jim was so vital, so full of life that Spock could never for a very long time reassert his Vu1can nature: Jim’s emotions were always too close and, he had to admit, too compelling.

Upon their return to the ship, Kirk went directly to the bridge. Spock had followed, his emotions in turmoil, his mind tom in two separate directions: his concern for Kirk's suffering, and his still powerful anger and rage at the betrayal. He wanted to understand, but found he could not. He knew he needed to talk to Kirk, but the stubborn human would not leave the bridge until the end of shift.

McCoy had told Kirk to go get some rest, understanding that something very wrong had happened down there, aware of the lines of stress on Kirk's face. Kirk had bluntly refused, insisting he was all right and would finish his shift. McCoy had not deemed it proper to enforce him to leave the bridge at the moment; but he was worried over whatever had happened.

Unfortunately, the shift had been far from its end. The day passed uneventfully, and Spock was unable to drag Kirk out of his command chair, not even for a meal. He answered he was not hungry, and would do very well with the coffee he had ordered from the yeoman. Spock's concern only seemed to irritate him, and the Vulcan retreated behind his work, pushing his feelings back into a secure place in his mind where he could retrieve and examine them later.

Kirk was very pensive, uncommunicative, and, as the day went on, his face reflected more and more his inner pain and turmoil. Spock, at the end of shift, came behind him and touched him lightly on the shoulder in a gesture of love and reassurance, something he rarely did before others, for he was still shy about anything physical between them.

He was shocked at Kirk's reaction at the simple gesture. The Captain sprang to his feet, and whirled around as if burned. His angry eyes met Spock's. He strode off the bridge without a word, without asking the Vulcan to his quarters, as Spock had hoped.

They had been estranged in such a way, during their sojourn in the 20th century, that Spock was wary of making the first move, lest he made the wrong one. _It is enough,_ he thought, _that I already did something that obviously displeased him so I won't risk any further rejection._

He went back to his quarters, uneasy at the knowledge of Kirk’s plight yet seeing no way to act upon this knowledge. He found himself restless, unable to do anything positive in the frame of mind he was in. Meditation proved impossible, so he attended to paperwork. His disciplined Vulcan mind was soon engrossed in the work and time passed swiftly enough until he suddenly realized it must be past dinnertime. _Maybe now would be the occasion to unobtrusively call on him,_ the Vulcan thought, _and try to soothe his spirit and get him to talk to me about what transpired._

The very short walk to Kirk’s quarters did nothing to improve Spock’s control on his emotions. When he buzzed at the door, he felt uneasy and wondered if his captain would notice. _If he understands how angry I really am, he will undoubtedly reject me, therefore I must not let him know!_

He understood at once that he had made a mistake: Kirk was sprawled on the bed, looking dejected and grim.

"What do you want?"

"You had no food today, Jim, and I thought we could partake of some in Rec Room 4 if it pleases you."

"No, Spock, it does not please me, I am tired and I feel queasy and all I need is to rest… at least to try!"

«I think we should talk. We have had no occasion to talk since we returned from the planet of the Guardian."

The Vulcan's awkwardness greatly irritated Kirk. He was in no mood for small talk. Besides, he knew what his friend wanted to talk about, and he was in no mood for _that_ at all.

"Get off my back! Can't I have some privacy, what do you think you are? What do you _want_ from me? Don't you think I suffered enough down there? Can't you for Heaven's sake _leave me alone?_ "

He was screaming, Spock’s cumbersome approach having given him the excuse he needed to vent his helpless anger on someone. The anger was only hiding a deep, biting pain at Edith’s death; but he knew he could not share that pain with Spock. He remembered clearly the Vulcan’s expression when he had told him, back in the 20th century: "Jim, Edith Keeler _must_ die." Spock had not succeeded in hiding his jealousy.

Spock's expression didn't change: he remained outwardly calm, giving no hint of what he was feeling. That enraged Kirk further, for he could not see the hidden hands so tightly clenched into fists that green blood was oozing from the palms where the nails dug deeply.

"Damn it, you _alien_ thing, insensitive bastard! Will you _leave me alone_ at last? I don't need your hypocritical fussing!" Kirk went on, trying to reach Spock, to force him to react in some way. He was beginning to think that what happened on Earth, subjectively only a few hours before, had separated the two of them forever, in a way that could not be mended.

Spock had no verbal answer to this: his own rage and frustration were boiling too high, and he began to involuntarily raise a fist over his head. He would have smashed Kirk's head, but for a last moment surge of control. He rerouted the crashing fist and sent it into the near doorjamb.

The brutal pain of the shattered hand restored sanity in his mind, but the emotional impact of what he had almost done flung him to the floor, a shivering ball of misery.

Disjointedly, Kirk contemplated the double set of emotions in him: one was raw fear at what had almost happened to him, for he was well aware of the initial direction of the blow; the other was concern, genuine concern, all anger and resentment forgotten, for the reasons behind Spock’s action.

 _It is so unlike him,_ Kirk thought. _He actually almost killed me! What's the matter with us?_

He knelt beside the unmoving Vulcan, and anxiously reached to his shoulder. He touched him softly, gingerly, not wanting to upset him again. _I’ve done enough damage, yelling at him this way! What did I say to him? It was terribly unfair..._

Spock reacted to the light touch with a gasping sound, his face still hidden under his outflung arms. Ali his anger was gone, drowned in fear and guilt and shame. He dragged himself closer to the comforting hand, and whispered brokenly, "Jim... I could have killed you... I... It is...»

"Hush, Spock, you didn't, and that's all that matters. I'm to blame. Being your lover doesn't give me the right to spew out whatever crosses my mind. I've been wrong. Please, forgive me?"

Spock was totally nonplussed at that, knowing that he had almost crushed the life out of the most important being in the galaxy; yet it was his potential victim who was apologizing! He felt terribly inadequate at human relationships at the moment, desperately needing the closeness to his friend, yet fearful of what his VuIcan heritage could do to them both.

Suddenly Kirk caught sight of the hand which had impacted the door. It was badly broken; at least he surmised as much from the twisted fingers and swollen knuckles. He carefully picked it up and tried to examine it further. Although his medical knowledge was Jimited, it affirmed his previous guess concerning the condition of the hand.

"We'll need McCoy for this," he told the VuIcan. "Can you stand? Here, I'11 help you. Lean on me...»

He guided his unsteady friend towards the private part of his quarters, past the separation grid and into the bedroom. There he helped him sit on the narrow bunk where they had spent so many sleepless, passionate nights. The memories came unbidden to Kirk’s mind, his love and desire for the very silent being beside him overwhelming him, filling him with a need to reach out and comfort. He forgot his own grief over Edith in the process, as usual being able to push the personal pain he was feeling into a corner of his mind when some emergency called him. Moreover, it was _Spock_ needing him. He crad1ed the hurt hand in his own, reluctant to let go of his friend to call McCoy. He could sense Spock’s need for reassurance, and reflected it was best he gave him some time to reassert his wounded ego before he had the good doctor intrude on them. Still holding the hand, he saw the small wounds on the palm, and mused about the tension Spock must have been hiding since his arrival in the Captain's quarters.

 _I've been selfish,_ Kirk reflected, _I've thought only of myself and my own grief, but obviously something has been preying on his mind - maybe he never reconciled the fact that I fell in love with Edith Keeler with the fact that I love him._

Spock was leaning heavily against him, his spare frame still shaking from time to time. He was still frighteningly silent. Kirk motioned him to lie on the bed, gingerly arranged his hand by his side, not wanting to hurt him further.

 _It’s strange,_ he mused, _his hand must be paining him a lot, and he won't let if show, not even to me... Yet he has been willing to let me see what he was feeling, on more than one occasion... What's different now? What’s happened to us?_

He went to the communication console on his desk and called McCoy, leaving the device on audio only.

"Bones, could you come to my quarters as soon as possible? Bring your medikit, and don't worry, it’s nothing fatal!"

"What in blazes is this? Who's hurt? Is it Spock?"

"Yes, it's Spock. His hand... I believe it’s broken. Bones," Kirk's tone was becoming impatient, "will you _please_ come to my quarters?"

"On my way, captain...”

 

A few moments later McCoy barged in, more than slightly aggravated at his commanding officer's tone. He had lived through a not very easy day himself, he was tired and still wondering about what had happened "down there".

_Spock knows what took place... I'm going to have to ask him, for I feel Jim ain't going to tell me a thing. Is it because I was responsible for all the trouble in the first place? Dammit, I didn’t ask to be injected with the blasted drug!_

"Well, I’m here. Where is he? I thought he was in your quarters! You could have told me... "

"Hold it, Bones, he _is._ I’d like to talk to you before you see him, he's... quite upset..."

Kirk rubbed his forehead with the heel of his hand, an unusual gesture, McCoy noticed. He was quite adept at reading his friend's body language and this was not his normal way of reacting when he had a headache, which he got fairly often, the doctor knew: he usually put the tips of two fingers on the painful spot and pressed, rather than rubbed.

"You don't seem very well yourself, Jim," the doctor said. "What’s the matter? Here, take this. And sit, in Heaven’s name, before you fall down!"

He took Kirk's arm and led him to the chair beside his desk, watching as he slumped wearily on it. _That man is travelling a very tight rope,_ the doctor thought. _He's on the verge of collapse... Must have something to do with the events on the 20th century Earth... What the hell happened down there?_ He watched the very tired Captain of the starship Enterprise swallow the pill, then raise his head in the proud gesture he used when confronting danger, decision or pain.

Kirk mustered all his strength and began explaining to a puzzled McCoy that Spock had accidentally broken his hand by tripping on the floor and crashing into the door. As he was speaking, Kirk felt like an idiot. _McCoy is not going to buy this,_ he thought. _He’ll know I’m lying. I wish my head hadn't become so suddenly painful. We've been through a lot today..._

"If that’s an accident, and a silly one at that, why doesn't he explain it himself? And why is he upset, as you stated? Jim, I’m no fool. Let me tend him, and there will be time for explanations later."

McCoy, assuming that Spock had to be in Kirk's sleeping quarters, went straight to the bed, and was rather shocked at what he found: there was such a blank, unemotional look on the Vulcan’s face that he knew instantly he was in for trouble. Spock’s eyes were unfocused, and he did not seem to notice the doctor’s arrival.

"Well, let me see that hand... Broken, yes, and badly so. Spock, I’m going to take you to Sickbay to reknit those bones. There’s nothing much I can do here. However, I can give you a painkiller. That hand of yours has to be horribly painful!"

As he pulled a hypo out of his medikit, he realized his patient was acting strangely: he had not acknowledged the doctor's words, had remained motionless in the tense position that had been his since the beginning, and he uttered only one word, with a croaking, hoarse voice: "No."

 _No what?_ McCoy wondered. _Is he meaning, no, my hand doesn't hurt, or no thank you, no painkiller? Or is he meaning what I fear he means, no, he's not going to Sickbay? To hell with that Vulcan! He’s as stubborn as a mule, and if he has decided not to go to Sickbay, what am I going to do? Pull rank on him? He does look upset..._

"Jim, will you come here, guess I need you...”

Kirk's headache had not been improved greatly by the drug. He dragged himself up to his feet and joined the doctor beside the bed. He saw the look in his lover's eyes, and sent a questioning glance to McCoy.

"Spock, you've got to come with me to Sickbay. I trust you can walk? We will help you anyway. Here, let’s begin with the hypo...”

He made for Spock's arm, only to have the hypo shoved away from his hand by a sudden movement of the lying man. There was no violence in the shove, only fierce determination. He looked up at Kirk and managed to say in a halting voice:

"Jim, I must remain here... I... cannot be seen like this. Please, doctor... does what you can and... leave. Please...”

There was such anguish in Spock's tone that Kirk’s insides began to twist in shared pain for his friend.

"Bones, do as he says. We'll come in the morning, he needs rest more than anything else right now... Can't you rig up something for his hand?"

"Well, I could get the portable regen unit... It will at least begin healing his hand. But I have to see him in the morning. Jim, I do not understand what happened between the two of you, but I do understand that his main problem is not the hand. I’ll entrust him to you, until tomorrow. I’ll be back with the unit in a few moments. Try to calm him down. _And _he’s getting that hypo, or he isn't staying here!"__

As McCoy departed, Kirk almost collapsed on the bed near Spock. He remained seated by sheer force of will. His head pounded wild1y, and the pain was giving him focus problems. He hadn't had such a bad headache since his father died, and he had been too far away to be notified in time to attend the funeral. He knew his main idiosyncratic response to stress was headache, but it didn't make it any easier to bear. _I'11 ask McCoy for more of his magic potion, he thought, it's bound to have some effect if he gives me enough!_

His attention returned to his friend as the Vulcan moaned softly and reached out to him.

"Jim, I can feel you pain... Why? Am I... the cause of this? I did not intend to harm you... But I did. I am... unforgivable...»

Kirk's answer was curt.

“I've got a headache. None of your business."

He was immediately sorry at what he had just said, for Spock’s reaction to this was to tum to the wall and to begin shivering uncontrollably. _His control's almost gone..._ he thought, _and here I am, bitching at him! Will I ever learn that he is not human? That he is... something else. Oh god, am I able to cope with that? With that knowledge? Or that non-knowledge?_

"Spock, I'm sorry. I _am_ in pain. That headache is a real killer. Hope Bones will be able to fix it."

While speaking, he had laid a hand on the other man's shoulder, feeling the tremors in the powerful flesh. Unable to rely on speech, he willed the touch to convey what he felt to Spock. And what he felt was undeniably love. It was not unmixed with various other emotions, as anger, fear, resentment and pain, but it was _there._ Through the haze of agony in his head, he reached out, both physically and mentally, to assure Spock of the basic truthfulness of his feelings.

He was rewarded beyond his hopes when the Vulcan turned back to him with a child’s trust and cudd1ed him, curling himself up around the seated form of his captain.

Kirk knew at the same moment that some of the tension was draining from Spock at last, for he heard the soft, contained sound of a very quiet sobbing beginning on the bed. He carefully gathered his friend on his lap, mindful of the broken hand, and slowly stroked the shining ebony hair in a soothing motion that enabled him to finally begin to relax, as well.

 

McCoy was more than puzzled by everything that had just happened, and much more than worried. It wasn't like Kirk to lie so obviously. McCoy knew that Kirk was well able to disguise the truth when a job situation needed it, but it was rare that he would deliberately lie to his CMO and friend, if only because he knew McCoy would easily see through his attempt. Kirk wasn't all that transparent to most people, but he was to McCoy.

 _It's part of my job,_ he thought, _understanding the commanding officer’s minds, and insuring they're fit for commando And now I wonder if they are? I had misgivings since the beginning of their affair, and now it seems we've reached a turning point, but which one? What happened? What upset Spock so much and Kirk, as well? I have to know, but who should I ask? Spock, or Jim? Better ask each... They seem so reluctant to talk..._

Deliberately, he took his time to gather the portable unit. He could have been back in the Captain’s quarters in less than ten minutes, but he delayed until twice this time had elapsed. This, combined with the time it took him to return to Kirk's cabin, would give them twenty minutes of privacy. _Besides,_ he mused, _that stubborn Vulcan will have calmed down with Jim's help, and I won't have to put up a fight to treat him... Won't do to have a security detail take him forcefully to Sickbay... It would damage his image as first officer..._

He again determined to learn what had happened in the twentieth century. Obviously, something had gone very wrong - but how could a few hours in the past have created so much tension between his two friends?

He had no way of knowing, of course, that Kirk and Spock had spent several days awaiting his arrival... He had absolutely no way of knowing that Kirk had seen a fellow soul, his feminine double, in Edith Keeler. He had no way of knowing that, for the first time, Kirk had felt that if he could have with him both Spock and Edith, his life would be complete. Edith had said that Spock belonged at Kirk’s side. It was a rare show of understanding, and at that moment Kirk had begun to feel that _she_ belonged there, as well. McCoy had no way of knowing all this, but he had seen the pain in Kirk's eyes, the confusion, and Spock's dejected behavior, and his busy mind kept worrying over his friends as he made his way back to them.

 

"Come in, Bones," Kirk answered wearily.

His head felt no better, but Spock's crying had subsided, and he could sense the partia11y relaxed muscles under his hands as he gently massaged the Vu1can’s upper back and shoulders.

"Please, Bones, give me something stronger for that headache. It's still here, and I’m beginning to feel nauseated; I’m in for a really big one if you don't help me."

"Try this, it should help."

He waited until Kirk swallowed the pills, then asked him to help with Spock. They undressed him and settled him comfortably in the bed, then McCoy set to work. He ran a tricorder on the hand, found that the bones were displaced, and, with delicate fingers, began to put them back in place. The pain elicited a moan from Spock, very soft, but audible.

"McCoy, can't you see he's hurting? Why didn't you give him a painkiller before doing this? He isn't made of wood, you know!"

"Spock, do you want that hypo? ...Well, don't answer, but I know you want it."

"Yes, doctor, I do want it. I... apologize for my previous behavior."

"No need to, Spock," murmured the doctor as he shot the contents of the hypo into Spock’s shoulder. "You need rest and sleep; there will be time for apologies tomorrow. Here, the bones are back where they belong, and the unit will begin to reknit them." He attached the regen unit to Spock’s wrist, the bulk of the unit encasing his hand. A soft glow emanated from its depth. "Try not to move your hand too much. It's not very heavy, so it won't bother you very much. The painkiller should act as a relaxant too, and help you sleep. Close your eyes, and allow yourself to drift... That’s it…”

McCoy's voice had taken a faraway, almost hypnotic quality, and Kirk watched with amazement as the doctor practically rocked Spock to sleep.

When the Vulcan was peacefully asleep, McCoy turned to Kirk, concern plainly written on his craggy face.

"Jim, how's that headache? Any better? Hey, watch it!"

He barely had time to catch Kirk as he swayed. He guided him to a chair. _Again,_ he thought tartly, _is this going to become a habit? The Captain collapses, and old Bones catches him. Strange, though... I’ve never seen him quite this bad before..._

McCoy's mental irony wasn't successful in damping down his anxiety over Kirk’s wellbeing. That persistent headache was a sure sign of intense stress. Even if medication eradicated it, it wouldn't treat the cause, only the symptomatic pain and discomfort. Sighing, he gave Kirk another pill, a different one.

"Jim, this one is really strong stuff. You're going to down it and lie on your bed at once. It will stop the pain, but you're going to feel dizzy, and I don't want to risk you falling and breaking your neck!"

"Whatever you say, Bones, I feel so exhausted anyway... Help me move Spock over against the wall, so he won't fall in his sleep, and I'11 go to bed too."

He pushed up from the chair and went to the bed. McCoy followed, wondering about Kirk’s ability to think primarily of another’s welfare when he was himself so tired and hurting. _His compassion,_ he reflected, _that’s what makes him the man he is, the leader he is. No wonder his crew is ready to die at his command! They know he'll never ask anything that he wouldn't be ready to do himself•_

They moved Spock over, with great caution, so as not to disturb his much-needed sleep. Then McCoy handed Kirk a glass of water, and he gulped the pill, his eyes blinking with the pain the simple movement of raising his head to drink caused him. McCoy saw to it that he settled on the bed next to his friend. Knowing Kirk would soon be asleep because of the potent painkiller-relaxant he had given him, McCoy dumped the bundle of mixed blue, gold and black clothing down the disposal chute, and took his leave immediately, closing the door behind him and hoping his two friends would enjoy a peaceful rest for the time being, whatever the morning had in store for them.

Kirk awoke with a start, not knowing what had pulled him out of a restful sleep. He felt movement beside him and suddenly remembered the events of the previous evening. His headache was gone, all that was left was the dizziness McCoy had warned him of, but it was insignificant compared to the searing pain he had felt before. He turned to the restless figure of his friend, fully expecting to find him in the throes of a nightmare. But by the very dim light of his cabin, he could see Spock was awake, and watching him.

"Spock?" he said softly, "Are you all right? I was hoping you'd sleep all night. .. If you're in pain, we can call McCoy again; I know he won't mind."

"My hand does not bother me, Jim. I thank you for your concern," the Vulcan said formally. Then, sensing the hurt in Kirk at his remote tone, he added, slowly, uneasily, "I regret what I have done... to us. Will you ever forgive me? I know I do not deserve it, I do not deserve your...” He fell silent.

 

"Love, Spock? Is that the word you're looking for? I _do_ love you. Don't you forget it! You're part of me, don't you understand? There’s nothing to forgive, there are only things to be understood... And now that you're awake, you might as well come closer. I've never liked sleeping alone, not since I've known you."

At this, Spock’s lips curved into one of his almost-smiles, He crawled closer until his head was nestled on the cool Human shoulder. "This is illogical. We _were_ sleeping together, as I recall. How could you complain of sleeping alone?"

"My logical friend, that’s something I can only demonstrate, not explain!"

Kirk felt infinitely relieved that the mood had lightened, to the point that Spock was able to wage his endless mock-war for the supremacy of logic. The warm weight on his chest, the pleasure of closeness to one so dear, added to his relief, and he stroked the muscled back with hands that quickly warmed to the task and began sending tactile messages throughout his whole body. There was a soft moan in Spock's direction. _This time he isn't groaning from pain… I love it when I can make him lose his control... in that way!_

He continued to caress Spock for a long time, never tiring of the sensation it gave him to touch his lover and to feel him respond in his typica1 Vulcan way. _What I call "his typical Vulcan way"_ Kirk reflected, _is certainly totally atypical! Besides, I've never made love with another Vulcan, so what do I know? Maybe it's just a typical 5pock way to react to lovemaking. Do I react in that way? 5eems to me I am more… forceful in my reactions. He demands nothing, but he takes... whatever I’m willing to give. And, by god, he knows how to take/_

Spock was not moving, reveling in the warmth radiating from his lover. _So human and so different from me! I do not understand him, I am afraid of my uncontrollable reaction to anything that seems to come between us,_ he thought, as Kirk's hands roamed his lower back, not yet touching the small buttocks, but slowly weaving their way toward them. _I could not pull away from him, not on my life... Oh, that touch is so sweet... He is so patient... I do not deserve it, I do not deserve him..._ The path his thoughts were taking prevented him from fully enjoying the feelings he was getting from the tireless hands of his friend.

Kirk had never been one to hurry when engaged in lovemaking. He loved to have a totally responsive partner, and he knew of only one way to get that: long, careful, tender and thorough foreplay. It was as much for his own benefit as for the benefit of his partner, for the resulting stimulation of his own senses was overwhelming. It rendered him able to enjoy it all the more and that was not a fringe benefit for as hedonistic a being as James T. Kirk. As for his partners, they had never complained of the lengthy foreplay: some even expressed pleasure that, for once, they had found someone who was in no hurry and considerate enough to "think ahead of his cock".

Kirk was secure enough in his masculinity not to feel threatened by the fact that a number of his lovers had commented his responses and actions were almost feminine. The few men he had made love with had been enthralled by this "feminine" quality to him, despite the fact that Kirk had always been the sexually active partner in these encounters. Thus it was with Spock, until now. Kirk felt no haste, and, to be perfectly honest, no desire to be the receptive partner in their lovemaking. He sometimes wondered if it was a flaw in his psyche, if the command image was so strong that he could not allow himself not to be the leader, even in such an intimate matter. He had not been able to answer his own question. As Spock seemed content with the situation as it was, he felt no urgency to solve the enigma.

His thoughts had been drifting away, but not his physical awareness. He was acutely _feeling_ the hot Vulcan body in his arms, and the quiet shivers that ran through the muscles and flesh he was stroking. _I guess he's ready for me now,_ Kirk mused, _I can tell it by the way he moves against me, and those small moans... Oh god, his innocence excites me so much! I want to make love to him, and I know he wants it as well..._

His hands had not left Spock's back. Strangely, this one caress had been totally fulfilling until now, neither feeling the need for any other kind of touching, as if the reassurance given by this primal contact had been their only necessity and their only requirement. Now something more was needed, and Kirk's hands wandered lower, urgently squeezing the twin mounds of Spock’s ass, indicating his desire to join with his lover. There was a soft sigh in Spock’s direction, one long leg was lifted and came to rest on Kirk’s thigh, thus granting access to the secret core of the Vulcan's body.

As the skilled hands began to gently caress his anus, Spock felt a growing uneasiness. The physical sensations were pleasurable, but he sensed something was wrong. _Why is he so tender with me? I almost killed him. I am unworthy as a Vulcan, as well as a Human. It is not possible for him not to resent me... Yet he does not show any appearance of resenting me... Will I ever understand him? My t'hy'la, I need..."_

“Jim, I need...” He could not continue.

"I know what you need, love... I need it, too, but we're in no hurry. Let's do it slowly; I want you to relax. What is it?" The question was caused by a mute negation from Spock, who had indicated "no" with a movement of his head against Kirk’s chest.

"No," Spock whispered. "Please, I need you to be… direct... "

_Now what the hell does he mean by this? Oh, my shy Vulcan love, sometimes I think I am Oedipus trying to solve the Sphinx’s charade..._

"What do you mean, Spock? That you want me to be... rough? Is that it?"

 _I want you to hurt me, as I almost did you!_ Spock’s mind screamed, _but I am unable to ask for it! Please, understand!_

His silent plea was heard, somehow, for it suddenly became very clear to Kirk exactly what Spock wanted. And the idea of the much-stronger-than-him Vulcan willingly giving him so much power felt strangely exciting to him. This was a new desire, one he had never acknowledged before, but it was obviously _there._ He knew that Spock would have difficulty in saying it aloud, but he had to make sure.

"Spock, you want our lovemaking to be rough, you want me to enter you without our usual... precautions? I can do it, but you have to tell me if this is what you really want?"

"I do desire it, Jim." Spock’s voice was a low, husky murmur. He was beginning to feel aroused by his masochistic need, and could hardly wait for Kirk’s decision.

Kirk gave in to the mood, and resumed his stroking of the Vulcan's opening, less gently this time, to indicate he agreed with his lover’s demand. He knew it would be easy to grant Spock what he wanted, for he was very tight, and he usually needed a lot of stroking and coaxing, not to mention a good deal of lubricant, to be readied for penetration.

Thought had deserted Spock, and his Vulcan composure was completely forgotten. What the gentle lovemaking had not accomplished, the prospect of a different, more brutal approach did. He let himself go, totally and without reservation, placing himself in the hands of his friend, waiting helplessly for what was to come, and in the process forgetting some of his guilt. What had been a means of self-punishment now held the allure of a new experiment. When Kirk, his voice hoarse with desire, commanded him to turn and lie on his back, he readily complied.

Aroused almost beyond endurance by the shy, vulnerable, open look on his lover's face, Kirk parted Spock’s legs, kneeled between them, and raised his partner’s ass with both hands. Spock placed his legs on Kirk’s shoulders, instinctively giving greater access to his waiting body.

 _He's so beautiful like this,_ Kirk reflected, almost dazed with lust, _and he looks so abandoned, now, who'd have guessed that, a pervert Vulcan in my bed?_

He could wait no longer, and pressed his erect penis to Spock’s anus. Surprised at first by the unusual resistance he held back, then pushed forward more forcefully. Still the opening did not relent. Spock’s eyes closed and his mouth twisted with his effort to stop a groan, but his legs parted a little wider, inviting him to continue. Kirk slid his hands to the Vulcan’s hips, and took a firm hold on them. He then lunged forward repeatedly until he felt himself enter the tight channel. Spock cried out at the moment of penetration, and his body tried to escape the pain, but the hands on his hips forced him to remain motionless, and besides he had no real desire to stop now.

"You can scream, my love," Kirk whispered, "it's not over yet, you're going to feel me all the way in, I’m going to fuck you silly, oh, you're so tight, it's so delicious to be in you... "

Spock was excited beyond belief by what was happening to him. The pain in his rectum became a part of the incredible pleasure of being made love to by Kirk.

 _I had never understood before what some humans meant when they spoke of "a sweet agony",_ Spock mused in the middle of his lustful haze, _but I understand now. Oh, Jim, more of this, please!_

So finely attuned were they that Kirk spoke aloud almost the very words Spock had just thought, feeling compelled to do so, knowing it would excite his friend all the more.

"I’m going to give you more of it, Spock, but I want you to ask for it, do you hear me?"

He bent and kissed his lover's lips, at the same time powerfully thrusting in, in every sense taking the Vulcan by surprise. He drank the agonized screams from Spock’s mouth, lapping at the soft, sensuous lips, reveling in the warm tightness of his friend's body. Spock responded eagerly to the kiss, indicating his pleasure overwhelmed his pain. Kirk’s movements deepened, each forward thrust carrying him farther in the willing rectum, each backward one nearly taking him out. Spock was moaning continuously now, and Kirk could see it was not only with pain: the Vulcan’s organ was swollen with desire and clamored for attention. Since his hands were busy holding Spock’s hips, Kirk could do nothing for him. So he moved his lips to one elegantly tapered ear, and murmured lovingly, "Spock, touch yourself, please? I’m going to watch you do it, don't be shy... You'l1 love it, and so will It"

Hesitantly at first, his eyes still closed, Spock reached for his cock and began stroking it in a motion resembling the one he had often used on Kirk, quickly adjusting the movements to his own needs. Then he opened his eyes and saw Kirk observing him. No, he could not deny this man anything. He gave him one of his rare smiles, and was rewarded by the most damning, love-filled, dazzling Kirk smile he had ever seen!

Kirk was sheathed fully now, and he had stopped moving to give Spock’s body the opportunity to adjust, feeling it was time to revert to a more gentle lovemaking. He wanted Spock to really enjoy the sensations he was deriving from his masturbation. The Vulcan's hips began to rock and rotate of their own accord, thus deliciously squeezing and massaging Kirk’s cock. He resumed thrusting, following the increasing rhythm of Spock's movements, taking them both to a peak of sensation that could not last long.

Kirk came first, the contractions of his penis triggering Spock’s orgasm in a way he had never experienced before. Spock ejaculated, and felt at the same moment a series of powerful spasms in his rectum that increased his pleasure tenfold. There was pain, too, inextricably mixed with the pleasure, part of it. He did not refuse one or the other. He took it all, all the sensations, all the feelings, the pleasure and the pain, the guilt and the loss, the joy and the anguish, all the too-long denied outpouring of his emotions. His arms went round Kirk, holding the spent body in a fiercely loving way; then, all his Vulcan breeding forgotten, he shamelessly cried with pleasure, with love, with tenderness, in the hollow of Kirk's neck.

Early in the Enterprise morning, some hours before the beginning of the day shift, to which Kirk and Spock were currently assigned, McCoy heard the whooshing of the Sickbay door sliding aside, and motioned his two friends to his private office. They looked much better than the previous evening, yet obviously not totally recovered from whatever had befallen them. Kirk was still very pale, and had he not known better, the doctor would have thought _he_ was the sick one, not the Vulcan.

"Hi, Bones. Here we are, as promised! I wanted to make sure you're taking Spock off duty today."

"Well, of course. But I don't see that this should prevent him from having breakfast. I haven't had mine yet, and I’m not really on duty. How did you know you’d find me here, by the way? You didn't even call."

"Bones, when you say 'first thing in the morning’, I don't need to call to be sure you're waiting, like a mother hen who's found a duck in the middle of her chicks!"

"Poetic, aren't you," McCoy grumbled. Turning to Spock, he added, "How's the hand? Could you get enough sleep? If you're not in too much pain, it could wait until after breakfast."

"My hand is quite fine, doctor, I was able to initiate a light healing trance later in the night, and I trust that you will find the regen unit unnecessary at the moment."

"Well, _Doctor_ Spock, I'11 be the one to decide about that! Let's go to Rec Room 4, it should be nearly empty at this hour."

The meal was quite silent, McCoy observing his two friends and finding Jim Kirk strangely withdrawn. The Vulcan didn't talk much either, but that was normal for him. Jim’s behavior, on the other hand... His joke in McCoy's office had sounded forced, and his present silence was strained, not at all the relaxed companionship they usually enjoyed and which sometimes allowed for non-verbal communication. McCoy also noticed that Kirk drank three cups of coffee, and only picked at his food. The Vulcan ate normally. The doctor was beginning to think that maybe things were just a little too normal this morning with Spock. _Could be,_ he thought, _that he is carefully erecting a protective wall of normalcy around his problems. I know this Vulcan, he won't ask for any help, always tries to find a solution by himself... But this time, I won’t let it pass. I must know what happened, even more so as it involves Jim and he isn't exactly rising and shining this morning..._

McCoy’s musings were interrupted by the most pecu1iar event: Spock was asking, actually _asking_ for an appointment in Sickbay. He had declined the need for the regen unit or the exam, and McCoy had automatically assumed that it meant Spock was trying, as usual, to totally sidestep his obligation to comply. McCoy succeeded in disguising his amazement at the request and answered carefully that he could, of course, have a private interview with the ship’s first officer at any convenient time, since he, McCoy, was not especially busy that day, and Spock was off-duty for the next twenty four hours. They settled for a rendezvous in two hours time, when McCoy would be officially on duty, and Kirk on the bridge. _Now, why am I thinking this?_ McCoy wondered. _What does it matter where Jim is? But I’ll feel easier, less awkward, to know he's safely occupied somewhere else... Oh, to hell with it, Kirk isn't the type to come barging in when he knows I'm talking with Spock... Yet..._

The trend of his thoughts was interrupted by the end of the meal, and McCoy returned to Sickbay while his friends went back to their quarters.

He awaited anxiously Spock's arrival, determined to use the interview to learn something about the events in the twentieth century. When Spock arrived at the appointed time, he was ready to demand explanations, but that turned out to be unnecessary. The Vulcan quietly seated himself in the chair in front of the desk, and began to speak.

"Doctor McCoy, you may not believe it, but I consider you to be my friend. There is only one other that I call "friend", and you know he is my t'hy'la, my chosen one. Bones," - and the nickname felt strangely out of place in the Vulcan's mouth, both pathetic and preposterous,- "I almost killed him last night, in jealousy and rage and anger. I was able to control myself this time, barely. But I fear what I might do if my control should snap, if the savage Vulcan blood were to take over my civilized being. I am afraid, doctor. I do not know what to do, and I am asking you for your help."

What he said so surprised McCoy that he remained silent, awed by Spock’s honesty and inwardly cringing at his obvious pain. After a few moments, he rose from his chair and stood in front of his desk, moving close to Spock. It was an unconscious reaction: where words failed, physical closeness might help. He laid his hand on the unhappy Vulcan’s stiff shoulder, and squeezed in reassurance.

McCoy's touch conveyed many emotions, and Spock understood perfectly all that was said in that silent communication. He felt the love emanating from McCoy, the understanding, the openness. _This man is the true spirit of IDIC,_ Spock thought, _I was right to come to him. Had it not been for Jim, I would never have burdened him with my problem, but he_ understands _. He is going to help me, if it is at all possible._

At last McCoy found his wits, and his voice. He returned to his chair.

"Spock," he began gingerly, "I am honored by your trust, and I want you to know that you are my friend, as I am yours. Friendship is not a one-way street. For me to be able to help you I'll need to know what happened: I need to understand the reasons for your rage and jealousy. But I want you to understand, before we go any further, that you shouldn't worry about some atavistic Vulcan curse destroying your control. As you well know, we humans experience jealousy and rage in generous helpings, and it's as likely as anything that your violence comes from your human blood. Besides, you are _you,_ a unique being, created by both worlds, and by the love between your parents. I trust there is love between your parents, isn't there? Look, Spock, you love Jim, I know it and he knows it. And _you_ know it. Let’s keep this in mind... Well... Care to tell me what happened down there?"

Spock carefully told the doctor everything that had transpired on Earth in the 20th century during the days they had awaited for McCoy's arrival. He spoke of the fateful knowledge he had stumbled upon, of the inevitability of Edith's death if they were to save the future. He recounted the pain he had seen in Jim’s eyes when he had had to say: _Jim, Edith Keeler must die._ He related his own shameful reaction when Kirk had said, _Spock, I believe I’m in love with Edith Keeler._ Spock had felt grief then, knowing Jim would suffer from the loss of the young woman he loved, but he had felt elation too, at the thought that he would not have to contend with a rival in his t'hy'la's heart. Yet the mere fact that Jim had loved her, still loved her, was mourning her death, had been the source of his jealousy and rage. Spock told McCoy he could not understand _how_ Kirk could profess to love him, and at the same time fall in love with someone else.

At that, Spock fell silent for such a long time that McCoy felt compelled to say something. He had not intended to, wanting Spock to "let go" of whatever was eating him, but presently he surmised the Vulcan would not continue without help. He had to unlock him again, and McCoy’s only tool for this endeavor was his tongue.

"Spock, I don't know how Jim works it out, but one thing remains: he does work it out. I’m pretty possessive myself, so I can't say that I don't understand your feelings... But it's no use, Spock. It’s no use to try to change the ones you love... If Jim is one of those few people who can truly love more than one person at a time, then you have to accept him the way he is, as he accepted you the way you are. The only other alternatives are separation or disaster. This time, the problem has been solved - rather brutally I might say - but what’s not settled is your reaction to Jim’s love for Edith, and the consequences of that for your relationship."

"Doctor, if people can't be changed, why do you expect me to change that much? It appears I am the one who should do the changing, and what if I am not able to comply?"

"I didn't say that people can't change, Spock, only that it’s useless to _want_ to change them for whatever purpose. They must want to change themselves. Jim is not the one who came here for help. He is not the one with a problem. He is suffering now, we know it, but not because of his psychological make-up. He is suffering because he lost someone he loved. On the contrary, you, Spock, are suffering because of your mental... limitations. Listen, Spock, I’m going to be direct: do you have reason to believe [im loves you less? What about the sexual part of your relationship? Is it satisfying to you? Do you feel loved when he makes love to you? If you want my help, Spock, you must answer me. Now."

Spock was shocked to the core by the doctor’s words. As McCoy had intended, they threw him off balance, wiping away the control he had maintained with difficulty since exiting from his captain’s quarters that morning. His face went ashen, and the look he gave McCoy wrenched the doctor's heart. Then, the Vulcan slowly lowered his face into his raised hands, and McCoy could see the tremors running through his whole body. He swiftly stood again, and urged Spock out of the chair and on the sofa at the other end of his office. There he could sit near him, and offer him the reassurance of contact. Silently, Spock pressed close to him, his face still hidden by his hands. _This aloof, unemotional Vulcan has indeed changed a lot already,_ McCoy reflected, _but I can't say he's the worse for wear! Jim had freed him in many ways. Now Spock has a problem, they have a problem. And that Vulcan is too eager to revert to his old ways of iron control if something happens, only he's got everything wrong: he uses the control when he should communicate, and forfeits it when he needs it to prevent injuries._

After awhile, Spock lowered his hands and gazed straight into McCoy’s eyes.

"I shall answer you, doctor." His voice was low, strained. To McCoy, he looked like a man in emotional turmoil, accepting it, and controlling it as best he could, but no longer using up his energy to dis guise his true state of mind. "Yes, I feel loved by Jim. We also… interact… quite satisfactorily in the area of sexual activity. I do not believe his affection for me is altered, although he said rather harsh things to me yesterday. But it is not the first time he releases tension by yelling at me. I know the strain he is under as captain of the Enterprise, responsible for the exploration program and for the welfare of his crew. That is why I think my actions yesterday are unforgivable. _He_ forgave me, but how am I going to forgive myself?"

"Feeling guilty, Spock? Why should you? As things go, you actually prevented injury to him. You hurt yourself instead. It wasn't very bright, I might say, but it worked. You acted without malice, out of emotion you don't comprehend fully, but you retained enough control to stop yourself before something drastic happened." McCoy eyed the first officer warily, knowing his reasoning was just a little too on the easy side, but convinced he must reassure Spock about his burst of violence. If he kept brooding about his actions, there was no way he could progress in understanding exactly what had transpired last night.

"Dr. McCoy, I think there are some truths you do not know about the Vulcans and their reactions. We are not humans. Jim knows it, and he was frightened. I could see it in his mind... He was frightened because he knew his life had been in jeopardy. That is not rhetorical, Bones."

"All right, then. So his life was in danger. It was a potential danger, one you managed to avert. You've saved his life before, in duty situations. Last night you saved him from your potential violence. What matters is the fact that nothing happened to him; you _were_ able to prevent it. Just like the rest of us, you're no angel, Mr. Perfect Vulcan."

McCoy grinned broadly as he spoke the last words. They had been too serious for the last few minutes; he had to lighten the mood. His friend's eyes crinkled slightly in the Vulcan equivalent of a relieved smile. _Good, it worked, McCoy thought, I think he’s beginning to relax. Should do him good. God, am tired! It's only morning and I'm already exhausted. Of course I slept poorly last night, and this entire interview is wearing my nerves thin..._

"Yes, I am... no angel. I shall meditate upon the motives you disclosed, doctor; some good may come from your help. My main goal is to preserve my relationship with Jim. It is paramount to me. I thought there was no way, but you showed me there might be one. I would like...»

He stopped abruptly, realizing he was perhaps going to presume too much on McCoy’s friendship and availability. He had been about to ask him if he could come from time to time and talk to him.

McCoy understood perfectly what the Vulcan had wanted to ask. He chose an indirect approach.

"All right, Spock, if you're through for now, I’d like to have a look at this hand of yours. You keep assuring me it’s healed, but you know how I am: I want to _see_ it’s hea1ed."

Leaving the doctor's private office, they went to the main Sickbay room, where Spock reclined on a bed while McCoy took the necessary readings. The hand was practically healed, but the tissues and bones were still tender. What Spock had not mentioned was the fact there was residual pain, especially when he moved his fingers.

"You're off duty today, Mr. Spock. I’m not sure about tomorrow; you’d have to be checked again in the morning. Come by at 08:00. I'll be here. For today, do not use that hand at all; give it time to complete the healing. And rest, don't spend the day at the computer console in your quarters. You show up somewhat depleted on my readings. Nothing to worry about; just take it easy today, that's all. And don't forget, tomorrow morning, 08:00."

"Vulcans never forget, Dr. McCoy."

"Good. Have a nice day, Spock."

"Thank you, doctor." It was an acknowledgement of their previous conversation, not merely a polite way to take leave.

The doors whooshed shut behind Spock, and McCoy returned to his office. He sat wearily in the chair, put his elbows on the desk and his chin in his hands. He wanted some time by himself to think about his friends’ problem. He was well aware it was Kirk's problem, as well; anything that affected the Vulcan ultimately affected him as well. He had chosen his approach to Spock with care, knowing the Vulcan must focus on his own reactions. There would be no solution to this if Spock refused to see things as they were, and to accept them. Jim Kirk was one of a kind. If his Vulcan lover proved unable to understand his idiosyncrasies, they would have to separate eventually. And McCoy knew how much Kirk relied on Spock for his command, he knew what a perfect working team the two made, and he was well aware of just how much Kirk loved the Vulcan, and how much he cared for him. A large part of Kirk's success as a commanding officer was due to the complementing influence of his second-in-command. If a separation was to take place on a personal level, Spock would have to ask for a transfer, for they would be unable to relate satisfactorily on a duty level only.

 _Well, I sure hope it doesn't come to this,_ he mused, _it would be a hell of a mess if they separated. They belong together. By the way, I’d like to know what's going on in the Captain's head. He was pretty silent this morning. I guess I’ll go check out the temperature on the bridge..._

With that destination on his mind, he informed Christine Chapel: "Nurse, I'll be on the bridge if I’m needed. Think I'11 stay there for awhile."

When the turbolift doors whooshed open for Dr. Leonard McCoy, his CO’s head turned sharply toward the lift’s general direction, and an air of disappointment passed briefly over the expressive features. _Looks as if he was expecting Spock... Yet he knows he’s off duty... Off duty officers don't show up on the bridge, as a rule. Well, this on-duty officer certainly seems subdued! I’m pretty sure he also could use some rest. Oh, shit, I can't talk to him here, not about_ that.

"Hi, Jim.”

"Hi, Bones."

"Talkative, ain't you?"

"I answered you, Dr. McCoy, with exactly the same amount of words you employed in your greetings."

"Oh well, now, that’s a Spock line, not a Jim Kirk one! What's the matter, is he rubbing off on you?"

“I’m in no mood for that kind of talk, Bones. Besides, this is not the place."

"It will have to be, as you slipped off from me this morning, and I had no occasion to talk to you. Nor did you make an appointment with me for a later date. This is serious stuff, Jim. As your medical officer, responsible for the welfare of this whole crew, I insist on seeing you _privately_ as soon as possible."

McCoy had been speaking in a very low voice. Only Vulcan ears could have picked up his words, and there was pointedly no Vulcan on the bridge. But the words nonetheless bothered Kirk, who was wary of being overheard.

"Not here, McCoy! I won't say it again. I'll be in your office one hour after end of shift. If that is all right with you?"

"Yes, of course. Mind if I hang around here for awhile?"

"No, Bones, as long as you respect the rules... I know you're a rule breaker, but, please, not today!"

The shift was again a milk run. Nothing happened for hours, and meal time carne and went without Kirk leaving the bridge, and without his having more than a cup of coffee in lieu of a meal. But by this time McCoy had returned to Sickbay, and was not aware of the fact that Kirk was skipping meals.

Suddenly, everything changed in the middle of the afternoon shift. Chekov announced in a tight voice:

"Unidentified vessel on the main screen, bearings 6.4, distance five thousand kilometers, closing fast on us."

Spock's replacement, Ensign Kilner, said in her soft, unhurried tones, "Confirmed. The ship is of an unknown design, but resembles closely enough..." She waited while the computer completed its analysis, "... a... Gorn ship, sir! Several elements fit! This is affirmative: this is a Gorn ship, or a ship from a culture very close to the Gorn culture."

Kirk sat upright in his chair, scanning the screen for the image of the alien ship.

"Maximum magnification, Mr. Chekov," he said. The young man was already adjusting dials on his console to do precisely that. He turned to Kirk, who nodded his pleasure for Chekov’s quick response. Chekov turned back to his console, beaming. Such small attentions from the captain were exactly what made him so special to his crew. He always spared the time for a gentle word, an acknowledgement for a job well done, a reassurance when it was needed, and understanding and compassion when that was all that was left after a difficult mission and the inevitable losses.

As the alien ship was on a collision course with the Enterprise, Kirk sounded a yellow alert. There was ample time to change the course of either vessel, but carefulness couldn't hurt. The alien ship was navigating at a very high-speed.

"Mr. Sulu, prepare for evasive maneuvers. Lt. Uhura, open hailing frequencies and send a peace message in Standard. If these are Gorns, they have universal translator technology; they will understand us. And we will be able to understand them."

Inward1y, Kirk thought, _oh my God, don't let them be Gorns! How am I going to deal with them, only thinking of them gives me the creeps. I had nightmares for months after my encounter with that Corn captain. Still have them [rom time to time. I never could stand reptiles. Well, they're not_ reptiles. _Of course they are reptilian in origin, but they are sentient beings. They're not so far from us, actually, space technology and all. Why do I have to remind myself forcibly of those things? Phobias aren't becoming to starship captains..._

The coded peace message was quickly sent by Uhura, who told Kirk without turning, for she was monitoring for a response with her ear receptor, "Message on hailing frequencies, sir. The alien ship received it, but has not yet acknowledged it."

"Keep listening, Lieutenant. And keep me posted."

"Aye, captain."

"Captain, the alien ship has accelerated."

"Divert 45 degrees to port, Mr. Sulu. Now!" Sulu swiftly and efficiently executed the maneuver, but just as swiftly and efficiently, the Gorn ship (everyone was thinking of it as such) altered its own course to match the change in the Enterprise, as a result again putting the two vessels on a collision course.

"Red alert, Mr. Sulu." Kirk hit a button on the arm of his chair. “Kirk here. Mr. Spock? I know you're off duty, but we're on a collision course with an alien vessel. I need you on the bridge."

"On my way, Captain."

Kirk sat back in his chair. The tiredness he had felt all day had evaporated. As always, emergencies drew on his inner core of strength and willpower. Even the residual headache that had bothered him since waking was gone. Not a single thought intruded that was not directed to the welfare of the ship, to the situation at hand, to the steps he would need to take to insure the security of his crew. When Spock arrived on the bridge and took his place at the science console, he nodded briefly to him, acknowledging the presence of his efficient first officer, not of his lover.

The Gorn ship maintained its course, but did not accelerate again. Everybody on the bridge felt tense, for a second attempted evasive maneuver brought the same result as the first one.

Meanwhile, Spock had confirmed Kilner’s analysis: the ship was indeed a Gorn one. It approached, closer and closer, until Kirk called battle stations, not liking what he thought was about to happen, but ready to wage battle if it was unavoidable.

The ship steadily grew larger on the main screen, until the distance separating the two vessels was less than a hundred kilometers. It was terribly close, in interstellar terms, and Kirk tensed inwardly, readying himse1f for the attack.

It was at that exact moment that Uhura broke in, with obvious satisfaction, "Sir, the ship is sending a message right now. It is an answer to ours. It is... in Standard, captain!"

Relief washed over Kirk, the sudden release of the tension making him feel dizzy for an instant. _They're answering! It could mean that we're not going to fight. No one has to die yet..._

"Put them on audio, Lieutenant. If they transmit in visual, I want them on the screen at once."

"Aye, Sir... Visual transmission coming through. Gorn ship on screen, Captain."

The bridge crew stared at the screen as it was filled with a picture of an alien bridge, its disposition different from that of the Enterprise bridge, but close enough not to leave any doubt about its function. The picture focused on the being sitting in the center chair, obviously the captain of the ship. The Gorn began to speak, while Kirk tried to regain his calm, shattered by the very appearance of the reptilian creature.

"Captain Kirk of the United Federation of Planets, I greet you on behalf of my people, the Gorn. I also greet you as a worthy opponent, and a merciful one. I am Rxftgh, the adversary you defeated in battle, and spared to live and spawn his children. I volunteered for this mission of peace, and I shall welcome a meeting with you."

Kirk's heart was beating so fast it was almost painful. His demeanor did not give the slightest indication of his state of mind. He was sitting, proudly erect, his features tense but calm, hands resting quietly on his thighs. Only he knew of the panic he feIt at the sight of the Gorn captain, of the sick feeling that some of his worse nightmares had come true. He forced the unwanted emotions back in his mind, clamping down on them with all his willpower, and when he answered it was smoothly, evenly, without hesitation.

"My greetings, Captain... ? I regret that I am not able to pronounce your name."

"The translator informs me that a close approximation in your language is 'John Smith'. You may call me that."

Amusement sparkled briefly in Kirk's mind. Well, if this monster really had such a common name that it was translated by a cliche, he could not be so terrifying! The humor of it relieved some of the tension.

"Thank you, Captain Smith. You said you came for a mission of peace. Could you tell me a little more about it before we convene a meeting?"

"My mission is to seek an alliance with the Federation. We have much to discuss if this is to be. We want to demonstrate our bona fides, thus we propose that the meeting take place on your ship. I am willing to come aboard weaponless, alone if you so desire."

"I will take all this into account. Nevertheless, I want to consult my senior officers before giving an answer. Would it be agreeable if I give you my answer in 45 standard minutes?"

"Of course, Captain Kirk. It is acceptable that you take the time to make a proper decision. We shall wait."

The screen went blank, and Kirk released a pent-up breath he had not been aware he was holding.

"Spock, you come with me. Uhura, call your replacement to the bridge, and ask all the senior officers to meet me immediately in Briefing Room 13. Have those on duty call their replacements."

Kirk and Spock exited the bridge together.

As the doors closed, isolating them from the rest of the crew, their eyes locked, and Spock, for the first time since he had been called to the bridge, took in the frightened look in his friend's eyes. Oh, it was well hidden, well controlled, but Spock knew better.

He had been there when nightmares had wakened Kirk night after night, leaving him trembling uncontrollably and unable to go back to sleep. He had attempted to conceal the nightmares from his Vulcan friend, huddling in the far corner of the bed, trying not to move, not to make a sound, and had succeeded to some extent; even Spock had not been aware that the nightmares had been a daily occurrence for awhile. But he had been aware, as he was now, of the instinctive fear Kirk had of reptiles, and his recent near-demise at the hands of one of their offspring had not much contributed to allay these fears.

He had held Kirk close those nights, offering the silent reassurance of his presence and of his love, and slowly the dreams had faded, become less frequent, less upsetting when they did occur. But Spock knew they had not totally disappeared.

He wanted to help now, to ease the fear he sensed in Kirk, but he knew there was not much he could do. His captain had a command decision to make, a difficult one, but then decisions were never easy when lives depended on them. And four hundred and thirty-odd lives depended on Jim's decisions all the time. Impulsively, dismissing his hesitation, Spock put his hands on Kirk's shoulders and pulled him to his chest. The Human leaned in the embrace, understanding what Spock was silently telling him, He squeezed back briefly, grateful for the tenderness, the warmth, then straightened himself as Spock released him, in perfect synchronization. They gazed at each other for one more second, and Kirk had a small, tight smile that barely reached his eyes.

"It'll work out all right, Spock. Thanks." The Vulcan understood.

"I know, Jim. I am with you."

The turbolift doors opened on Deck 6, near the briefing room Kirk had chosen for the meeting, and they went out and in the room.

They were not the first ones to arrive: McCoy had been faster, since he came from a lesser distance. He was looking worried and gruff, but then, when was McCoy _not_ looking gruff, Kirk wondered.

"I thought you were off duty, Mister! I'11 resign my commission some day if this is all the notice you take of my medical orders! That goes for you too, Captain. I suppose this Vulcan came eagerly enough to the bridge as soon as you called him! Oh, well, you're both incorrigible!" He smiled, unable to maintain his pose any longer. "Seriously, Spock, how is your hand?"

"It is perfectIy recovered, Doctor. Besides, this is not the time to worry about a minor indisposition."

As the other officers began to enter the briefing room, Spock’s keen Vulcan ears heard McCoy grurnbling in a low voice, "…breaks his hand, calls it a "minor indisposition"…"

Kirk entered the briefing room, reminding himself of the mission of the Enterprise: to seek contact with new civilizations. Here was a new civilization which had reached the era of space flight, which had learned of the existence of other beings in the galaxy. Despite its rather brutal first approach to that knowledge, it seemed they now wanted peaceful cooperation. There was no turning down such an offer.

Kirk knew he needed his officers’ advice on the covenant the Gorn proposed. As always, he sought other opinions before acting when much was at stake. He knew he could not be totally objective where Gorns were concerned. The learned advice of his officers would prove an immeasurable help, Kirk thought, as he motioned his officers to take their seats around the wide table.

The briefing went smoothly; everyone was conscious of the necessity of the meeting. Some had reservations, like Uhura, who declared, "Captain, I can't forget what we saw on the screen, when that Gorn captain was after you. I am sure he would have killed you if the situation had been reversed. I know this meeting has to take place, but I think it would be better if security members were present. Caution can't hurt."

"I concur with Ms. Uhura, Sir," Spock said. "I respectfully ask to be present, too."

Kirk agreed. "Two Security guards, Lt. Uhura, Mr. Spock, Dr. McCoy and I will receive the Gorn in 25 minutes. I feel compelled to authorize him to bring someone along, his first officer, or whatever it's called on board the Gorn vessel.

Kirk stood. "Everybody is to return to the bridge. I will call the Gorn ship, then make a general announcement. Mr. Spock, get the security guards and meet me in the transporter room in 15 minutes. We will await Cpt. Smith there."

When the Gorn Captain materialized on the transporter pad, Kirk was hard put to maintain his outward appearance of calm steadiness. _This is ridiculous,_ he thought. _I must not react in this way. There's no reason for this fear. Granted, he almost_ killed _me, but it was not the first time my life was at stake. And he's not the worst adversary I ever met... Pull yourself together, James T.!_

The Gorn stepped awkwardly from the transporter platform, his movements as slow and ungracious as Kirk recalled. But the being was no longer a threat, and, true to his word, he bore no arms.

He came straight to Kirk, and said in the raspy voice Kirk remembered too well:

"At last we meet again, Captain. I am glad to be the one who has been designated for this ambassadorial mission. Greetings, Cpt. Kirk."

"Cpt. Smith, I am pleased to welcome you on board the Enterprise. Let me introduce my first officer, Mr. Spock, and my chief medical officer, Dr. McCoy," said Kirk, desperately grateful that the Gorn had not tried to shake hands with the Enterprise officers. _I don't 1cnow if I could stand to touch him,_ Kirk mused. Then something hit him: the Gorn had come alone, even though he had been encouraged to bring another party.

They made their way back to the briefing room where the peace talks would begin.

The translator technology had been greatly improved since Kirk and the Gorn’s first meeting. The Federation people were not the only ones to wear implanted translator devices; Cpt. Smith, too, spoke without the help of any visible external equipment. Strangely, it had not modified his voice, which was still harsh and grating on Kirk's nerves. Nevertheless, he found that he was gradually getting used to his host's appearance, and that his nervousness was slowly settling down to mere uneasiness.

Spock was usually not the talkative type, but he was very used to support Kirk's position by seemingly casual remarks. Sometimes, as Khan Noonian Singh had astutely remarked, Kirk would let Spock do the talking, while he observed the strengths and weaknesses of his opponents.

ln this particular occurrence, Spock knew he had to be even more perceptive, even more watchful of what would be said and not said. The Gorn was as yet an unknown quantity in the equation Spock tried to make of his life - well, his _professional_ life at least. And he was still concerned about his friend's reaction to the Gorn, and the stress it would add to the meeting.

As soon as they were settled around the wide table, Kirk opened the discussion, observing that the Gorn had politely waited for him to begin speaking. _They must have learned something about our customs,_ Kirk thought. _I wonder how? And by what means? Well, let's hear what he has to say..._

Several things became clear as the Gorn outlined the reasons for his presence and the wishes of the Gorn people. Cpt. Smith was not here merely to meet a Federation ship; he intended, with Starfleet's approval, to undertake a true Ambassadorial mission, and to go back with the Enterprise to Federation Headquarters in order to outline the beginnings of a political and trading relationship between their two peoples.

This was why the Gorn captain had come alone. If the meeting were to produce the desired results, he would remain on board the Enterprise on its way to Fleet Headquarters. At warp speed, the journey would take about two weeks. Aware that the Federation would never authorize an alien and presumably hostile ship that deep into its territory, Cpt. Smith suggested this alternative.

Kirk agreed to relay this request to Starfleet, along with his appraisal of the situation. By now he was convinced of the trustworthiness of the Gorn ambassador, and ready to back Smith's position with his own personal influence.

At this distance, it would take several days before the message reached Starfleet. Kirk hoped the brass wouldn't take too long in composing their answer!

"Capt. Smith, I must ask that your ship remain in the vicinity until we get the answer from Starfleet. Meanwhile, you are our guest. You will understand that I have to restrict your access to certain areas of this ship. There will be security people in front of the entrance to such areas. Any area without a security guard is yours to explore. I hope this time of waiting will prove fruitful to our mutual understanding .. My first officer will show you to the guest quarters. Please feel free to inform him of any special needs you have. There will be a small reception tonight in your honor, in officer's Rec Room 2, at 0800. The briefing is dismissed, gentlebeings. Mr. Spock, report to my quarters in one hour."

While making his way back to officers’ territory, Spock was thinking dismayingly of the Gorn’s one request, the one concerning his... diet. He had arranged for the alien's... food... to be beamed aboard, but he was wondering how to break the news to Kirk that their guest needed to eat little live mammals at least twice a week. _Of course,_ mused Spock, _he is not going to eat them publicly, since I explained to him that this crew's eating habits do not include live prey. It is bad enough that we have felinoids on board who need raw meat, which they consume in the mess hall. I could not stand to watch reptiloids on top of that. And neither could Jim. Yet he must know about this..._

As it turned out, Spock was wrong to worry, for Kirk had surmised as much about the reptiloid's diet, and was not surprised. Neither was he disgusted; his fear of the Gorn was an irrational phobia; it was not prejudice. They discussed it, and Kirk admitted his fear, but pointed out that it was greatly diminished by the peaceful attitude of the alien and his willingness that his and the Federation people should come to an understanding.

The reception went well. Kirk was his usual charming self, and he managed to placate even Uhura’s uneasiness towards the Gorn with his show of self-confidence. Only he knew that it took some effort to talk and smile to their guest as if he was just another visiting diplomat. The powerful Gorn was a surprisingly gentIe being. The reptilian features could not smile, but when they arrived in the officers’ mess, he pulled a chair for Uhura, to Kirk's and everybody's astonishment. Uhura smiled and thanked him, wondering how he knew of the rules of civility between males and females of the human race! And rather old-fashioned rules, at that.

To Spock's rather illogical, but utter relief, the Gorn ate the proffered food and did not produce and eat live mice, He perceived Kirk's well-hidden strain during the meal, and tried to send reassurance through both his attitude and the low telepathic link that they seemed to share. It was something they had never discussed, but Spock was aware of the connection between them: it was one of the things that made them an exceptional command team, this ability to sometimes communicate almost without the need for speech. Once more, it worked. Kirk glanced at his friend and understood the silent message.

McCoy, always alert, had noticed the silent interchange, and when Kirk acknowledged Spock's silent support by sending him a brilliant smile, McCoy wondered how the whole bridge crew could not have perceived that these two shared more than mere friendship.

 _Or maybe they have,_ McCoy thought, _and they are just damn discreet about it. Never heard even a hint of speculation... But the way Jim smiles at him! And Spock, sometimes he is rather rash about the way he looks Jim up and dawn from head to toe, as if he was going to undress him with his eyes..._

By the end of the two hours meal, everybody was fairly relaxed. The ambassador had a steadfast, sedate personality. He spoke slowly but clearly, and the raucous voice no longer bothered Kirk; he had gotten used to it and was beginning to wonder how the alien could be so at ease with beings who after all were former enemies.

This first day, the conversation was on a general basis. Kirk could not afford to divulge too much to the alien, and he understood perfectly that the ambassador had the same limitations on how much he could disclose about his culture. Therefore they would both retain some amount of wariness.

They spoke of their respective cultures, Kirk pointing to the many different ones that already comprised the Federation. He explained to the Gorn that on Earth itself there had been many different cultures springing from the same home soil, and turning slightIy to Uhura and Sulu he added, "You can see that our appearance differs depending on which part of Earth our ancestors were born. Lt. Uhura here," he smiled to her, "and Lt. Sulu," he nodded to him, "have very different ancestries, both different from mine too. We leamed a few centuries ago to get along together on our home planet. Then came the interste11ar travels, and the shared dream of sentient beings, a dream that has made Mr. Spock and I brothers, although we were born on planets orbiting around two very distant suns. The stars are our home now, they are home to all of the people who wish for better days for each and every one... " Kirk's voice trailed away when he noticed he had attracted an audience. Everybody was watching him, and he could see moisture in Uhura's eyes, a gentle smile on McCoy's craggy face, and a look of such shining love in Spock’s gaze that he almost kissed him outright. Instead, he blushed at the untoward thought. "Sorry. I guess I just got carried away. I always do when I’m talking about this…”

He was addressing his apology to the whole audience, but was focused on his guest's reactions.

Nothing could be read on the rather impassive, motionless features, the result of the Gorn's reptilian physiology. His body lacked the suppleness of bare-skinned humanoids, as it was covered with semi-rigid sca1es which also prevented much facial movements. But the eyes were riveted on Kirk, and what the Gorn could not show, he said.

"Captain Kirk, you need not apologize. I thank you for showing me what your Federation truly is. Once we thought you were invaders. I deeply regret the loss of life that resulted from this misunderstanding, and I hope your superiors will authorize my mission, for I am convinced that the Gorn people must become part of your interstellar brotherhood. I would be glad if you accepted to count me as one of your starbrothers, too."  
  
 _I'm truly beginning to like him!_ Kirk thought with some amazement. _A few hours ago, I was scared stiff, and now I'm his would-be brother, and I don't mind!_

"I am glad to acknowledge you as one of us. I only hope Starfleet Command will concur; believe me, I spared nothing to back your request."

"I am honored, Captain. Whatever your Federation decides, I shall always think of you and your crew as special friends."

_Here we are, _Kirk thought wryly, _figuratively patting each other on the back... and only a few months ago, we were at each other's throats, each of us believing he was the one in the right...___

The evening drew to an end, and everyone retired for the night. Kirk made a point of walking the Gorn back to his quarters, together with Spock, then they came back to officers’ territory.

Spock was unsure how to proceed. Should he ask Kirk to his cabin or should he enter Kirk's cabin with him? They had no rules about this; they'd never needed them before. Things happened naturally and easily, and they would go to one or the other cabin on the whim of the moment, without planning ahead, unless there were other people in the corridor, in which case they would each enter his own cabin, or one or the other had decided on something special to do for the evening. Most of the times since they had become loyers they ended up together without even thinking about it.

But this time was different for Spock. What had occurred the night before was still painfulIy fresh in his mind. He was not aware that Kirk had the same fears and was also wondering what to do.

Finally they turned to each other in front of Kirk’s cabin, and began to speak at the same time:

"Jim... "

“Spock... "

Kirk chuckled, understanding suddenly that they were both embarrassed about the same thing. He glanced quickly around him: there was no one in the corridor. Simultaneously, he palmed open the door to his quarters and, taking Spock’s hand in his, pulled the unresisting Vulcan inside.

He did not release him when they were safely hidden from the world. Far from it! He threw his arms around the lean, muscular body of his lover, and whispered in the pointed appendage that adorned the side of Spock's head:

"God, my love, the day's been long, I need you... Ooohh, that’s good!"

His exclamation was caused by the massage Spock had begun on his upper back and shoulders. It felt wonderfully relaxing.

"Captain, I suggest that if you were to lie down, I could massage your back properly. It would be therapeutically efficient."

"'Therapeutically', indeed!" Kirk laughed. "'Captain', indeed! All right, Mr. Science Officer, let's hit the sack! Besides, it's a good idea: I intend to show you a few things tonight... " Spock opened his mouth to speak. "Shh, it’s a surprise! I’m not going to tell you, whatever you do."

"Even this," he added as Spock stroked his buttocks in a sensual, seductively slow way. With a look of naked longing, the Vulcan maneuvered him to the bed. Both men were aroused now, and besides they subconsciously wanted to evade the issue of the previous night's events. And this was a most pleasurable way to do so.

They tumbled on the bed, locked together, still fully clothed, but neither wanted to undress immediately. They wanted the opportunity to savor their closeness, knowing that when the time for lovemaking came, they would do it, also knowing that what they needed for now was tenderness. They nestled in each others’ arms, Spock's head resting on Kirk's shoulder, their legs entwined, like two kittens sleeping together. Spock caressed his friend's back, while the very proper captain of the Enterprise patted the head of his Vulcan first officer, trailing his fingers in the rich ebony hair, his nose buried in the clean-smelling thickness.

_I could hold him like this forever, _Kirk thought. _Well, maybe not for ever... I’m such a horny bastard! Anyway, a little forever, if such a thing exists!___

_Oohhh... he smells a little of human perspiration, _Spock reflected, _it is not supposed to smell good, yet the scent is pleasing to me. I wonder what it tastes like?___

The scientific streak of curiosity in him could not let such a question go unanswered! He raised his head slightly and experimentally licked at the Human's neck, in the pulsating hollow near the collarbone. _As I surmised... It is very good..._

"Hmm… Spock, do you know what you're doing to me? I love it... Ooohh... yes... do that again... "

_How sensual he is! Such a simple act I am performing, and he responds in this manner... He will never cease to delight me!_

Spock began to slowly undress him, and James T. Kirk, intergalactic stud, discovered for the first time with amazement what it was like to be totally responsive to the aggressiveness of another male, while remaining motionless though not unmoved. This had never happened before, and he wondered why. It felt so right why hadn't he encouraged Spock to be the aggressor before now?

Spock pulled the command shirt and the black undershirt up and over Kirk's head, thus baring his chest. He spent a long time stroking the fascinatingly hairless flesh, nibbling at the nipples barely short of the threshold of pain, sucking and pulling at the erect nubs until Kirk writhed and moaned and made incoherent little excited sounds and repeatedly called Spock’s name and knew no more what exactly was happening to him, only knowing he loved it, loved it!

Then the Vulcan slid his hands under the waist of Kirk’s pants and kneaded the soft flesh of his lover’s abdomen, pressing down and releasing in a rhythmic motion that drove Kirk nearly mad.

_Oh! I’m so excitedâ by this, it amazes me! He's just stroking my belly, and look at me! He's not even touched my cock yet... Why did he never take the lead before, like he's doing now? I never would have guessed I’d like it so much..._

Meanwhile, even as he was engaged in the pleasurable task of caressing his lover's body, the analytical part of Spock's mind was wondering how he dared be so aggressive, how he could have waited so long to _be _aggressive, and why it had never occurred to him that he _could _do these things.____

_I have never known before that I wanted to do that to Jim. I have been so content to be loved by him... I lacked this... forcefulness, but I did not even know it..._

He pulled down Kirk’s pants and briefs in a single gliding movement and feasted his eyes on the hard column of flesh that greeted him. He casually licked the top. It was salty, like Jim's perspiration, only it tasted stronger. He had never done this before, and wondered at all the ’firsts’ he seemed to encounter this night...

Spock was still fully dressed, complete with boots, and it aroused him unbearably to hold and stroke and kiss a thoroughly naked Kirk. Kirk was now tugging at Spock’s clothing, but Spock was not to be deterred. He definitely wanted things this way, and he gently but firmly led away the roving hands.

"No, Jim, let me love you thus... " Spock whispered. "I want to make love to you, I want you... You are so soft, my dearest, you are mine, I belong to you... "

Spock began to coyer Kirk's belly with gentle, featherlight kisses, circling nearer and nearer his straining manhood, cupping the balls in one hand, pressing carefully, delighted with the almost soundless moans his t'hy'la produced. Then his hand slid lower, searching for the hidden place of pleasure and belonging. At that moment, he wanted to join with his lover stronger than he had ever wanted anything else. But his love was such that he did not wish to do something Jim might not desire or like. He felt the sudden stiffening of the sturdy body as his fingers came to rest on the tight anal muscle, and murmured in Kirk’s ear: “T'hy'la... I want to share with you the same pleasure you give me, I want you to know how it feels... I want to feel myself in you... I must know if you want it too...”

Various emotions were warring in Kirk’s mind. Lost in a sensual half-dream, he hadn't realized what Spock was up to until he felt his fingers tentatively touch his anal opening. He was afraid - irrationally - for he _knew _that for Spock, the act was a source of pleasure. There was no reason why it should not be so for him too. He knew his lover would be careful, and would go to great lengths to avoid hurting him. Yet he was afraid. _Of losing my macho image if I let him bugger me? Come on, James T., you're beyond that! And how could you refuse him the sharing that is his by right? You gave him that right, implicitly, when you accepted his love, his commitment, his body...___

But there was another feeling lurking in his mind, insistently making itself known, an utter desire to accede to Spock’s wishes, to let him do as he pleased with his body; it felt right to give Spock that much leeway. Tenderly, he whispered back: "Yes, Spock, yes. I'm a little scared, you know... Let's do it slow."

Spock’s arousal lessened somewhat, and he withdrew his fingers. With great difficulty, he offered, "Jim, if you do not wish this, there is no need to submit yourself to it."

"Spock, that's not what I meant! I've been scared before, it never stopped me once I've made up my mind. Help me discard my fear, be gentle, my Vulcan friend, but do it! I want you... " He grinned rather sheepishly, concerned that Spock would shrink back in his usual passive shell.

Dazed by the beautifully smiling features, the Vulcan moved up his mate's body and claimed his mouth in a hard, demanding kiss that was fully returned. Then Spock began to caress him anew, chest, nipples, belly, genitals, thighs, back, he touched each and every part of the sensuously undulating being that was his true love.

Meanwhile, the scientist in Spock had not remained idle. He had summed up his knowledge of anal intercourse, most of it direct experiment, some of it discovered on educational tapes. And he had arrived to the conclusion that the most comfortable position for Jim's initiation would be to have him on his stomach. Of course, it would prevent him from manipulating his friend's genitals, but he doubted that Kirk could achieve completion the very first time he was penetrated. Spock himself had not, and it had taken a number of experiences before he could climax while being penetrated. He retrieved the ever-ready tube of lubricant, setting it aside on the bed. Then he arranged the wonderfully pliant body of his friend in the desired position, murmuring, "It will be easier this way, Jim. Open your legs... Yes.... Now relax, I will proceed very slowly, I won't enter you before you are ready." He slid the heel of his hand between the parted buttocks and moved lightly up and down the crack, using almost no pressure, wanting Jim to accept and enjoy the preparatory fondling before going any further.

Kirk sighed and wriggled under the feathery touch. It grew more precise, centered on his anus, but remained weightless.

"Hmm… it feels good... Don't know why I was afraid. " The hand left him for a brief moment, then returned and something cool was smeared between his legs, the fingers slowly pressing the cream in the opening, until it distended slightly to permit the insertion of one of Spock’s fingers. Kirk gasped, but remained motionless, forcing himself to stillness, knowing - hoping - that this first unpleasant sensation would fade. The finger withdrew, came back with more cream. This time Spock carefully inserted two digits, going farther into his friend's rectum, knowing that a shallow penetration was uncomfortable because it triggered the elimination reflex of the sphincter. The only 'cure’ for it was deeper penetration.

To Kirk's surprised relief, the discomfort did ease with the manipulation. He moaned his readiness for more. "Mmmm... yes, go ahead, Spock, it feels... nice. It doesn't hurt at all."

The verbal reassurance was not wasted on Spock, but he had to warn his friend, "Jim, it might hurt when I enter you. I shall endeavor to limit the eventual pain, but you must be prepared for it."

"Spock? Did I hurt you the first time we... ? You never showed it, I never knew... "

"It was a sweet pain, my love, one I wanted to feel. I knew it would turn into pleasure soon enough. It was not difficult to wait for it."

Whispering soft encouraging words, Spock proceeded to dilate further the small opening. He rotated his fingers, pressing harder now, pulling them out and in again, adding a third, stroking the inner walls, patting and stretching the sphincter muscle, until he knew there was nothing more he could do to prepare his lover.

The fingers were removed, and there was an eerie moment of silence while Spock, quickly pulling down his confining c1othes, coated his more-than-ready penis with the cream. Kirk waited tensely for what was to come. Then he felt the gentle pressure of a much larger invader between his legs, and he parted them even more to try to ease the entry. It was strange, to be on the receiving end, Kirk mused. The pressure increased, not painful as yet, but very uncomfortable, and he whimpered unwillingly. Spock froze. They remained motionless until Kirk murmured, "It's all right, Spock, do it to me. I want it, I want you in me... I know it will be good... " Of the latter he was not so sure, at least for the first time, but he was not about to deny Spock his pleasure, the same pleasure he himself found in his lover's compliant body.

Spock knew he could not delay any longer. He soothingly stroked his lover's shoulders and back, sliding down to the rounded hips. _He is so masculine, _Spock thought, _yet he has such a succulent callipygian posterior! This is most unusual in males... _Spock thought fleetingly, ruefully of his own diminutive backside, then was shocked at the rather un-Vulcan train of thought! He consoled himself with the knowledge that his current action was most un-Vulcan too. Not many Vulcans were madly in love with their commanding officer, and about to... He snapped back to the present, understanding he was stalling out of fear of hurting his friend. "Jim... I want you to breathe deeply, to relax... Yes... I will be gentle, my t'hy'la... I love you... I love you... "____

The crooning voice helped Kirk to let go, and when he felt the hard shaft nudging his ass again he went limp, trusting Spock to make this as easy as possible for them both. There was a sharp, biting pain as the head entered him, and his own moan was but a faint echo of Spock’s primal cry of triumph.

Spock felt the sudden contractions in his lover's body; he knew he was hurting him, but for once he could not deny himself his desire; it was so good, so _right _to be inside Kirk, he wanted more, much more! He pushed deeper, until he was half-buried in the spasming insides of his friend. The contractions did not help Spock to regain control, they were doing strangely wonderful things to him... He reached deep inside his Vulcanness to steady himself, to stop the penetration, to give Kirk time to adjust, when what he actually wanted to do was to fuck Kirk mindlessly and to come inside the delectable warmth of his lover's body.__

Kirk was grateful for the reprieve. The sharp agony of penetration slowly transformed itself into a dull ache, the worst part of it being the acute discomfort of the sensation that he needed to evacuate his intestines. But even this sensation eased as Spock, with minute movements, slowly slid deeper into him, carefully opening him further. It was not pleasant, but it was bearable. The involuntary spasms calmed somehow, further decreasing the unpleasant feeling of fullness in his rectum. He even caught glimpses that it could be actually pleasurable to be made love to in this way, but he did not quite manage to retain the sensation. He whispered to Spock, half for his friend's sake and half for his own, "I want you to move, now, my t'hy'la... I want you to give me your passion, I am ready for you... "

Spock did not answer with words, but one of his hands came up and stroked lovingly, reverently, the side of Jim's face, his brow, the decadently long lashes that fanned his cheek, the delicately small and oh-so-exotic rounded ears, the nape of the neck. The contact was delicious, so love-filled that Kirk’s heart melted, so tender that it overwhelmed the discomfort he still felt in his lower body. Even when he began to move, Spock kept his hand on Jim's head, easily taking his weight off his love with one powerful Vulcan arm.

The knowledge of the pleasure he was giving to his lover was reflected in the incoherent moans and little cries that escaped him. It enabled Kirk to bear the hard, deep thrusting that pounded at his insides. He sensed Spock's climax approaching, and exerted all his willpower not to whimper as the tempo increased again, painfully chafing his already-abused rectum. He did not want to spoil this for Spock, and besides there was not much more to endure now; he could do it. Even as he was convincing himself of this, he heard and felt Spock’s completion. A powerful spurting inside him and totally abandoned cries left no doubt as to what was happening. Joy filled Kirk, for having been able to give such pleasure to his lover, this alien he loved more than he could have believed possible; he felt grateful that his body had been the vessel into which Spock had poured the seed of his love. Spock had frozen with his climax, only to fall limply on his lover's back a few seconds later, breathing hard, murmuring words of love, of gratitude, of sheer fulfillment. Kirk was careful not to move, knowing how hypersensitive his own cock usually was immediately after climax. He thought with some humor, _he's likely to react to this as I do, god knows he makes love quite in the same way as I! And I thought he was subdued..._

After several minutes, Spock recovered from the cataclysmic feelings of this lovemaking. It was one of the most powerful orgasms he had ever felt, and it was different from the times where Jim made love to him. Suddenly he became aware that he was crushing his lover under his considerable body weight. With the return of awareness, he felt a blind panic well inside him at the thought of having hurt his beloved friend. He pushed himself up on his arms and let his limp penis slip from its human sheath, relieved as he could see no blood on it or on Kirk’s thighs; then he urgently turned Kirk on his back to face him. The human smiled at him, dazzlingly so, and some of Spock's fears were dispelled.

"Jim? Are you all right?" Spock said softly. "Did I hurt you? I... did not know what I was doing, for awhile…"

"That was beautiful, my love... To feel you letting go of your barriers - unnecessary ones - I loved it when you came."

"I know I hurt you... I was not considerate... " .

"Shh... yes, it hurt some, as you told me, but it was not you, don't you see? I guess my body needs some time to get used to this... "He grinned devilishly. "After all, I was a virgin, wasn't I? Well, in this area at least... Don't you feel proud to have been my... initiator? I would be, in your place!"

Spock found the ways of this human very endearing. "You are an endless delight to my soul, t'hy'la," he whispered. "I shall never cease to love and worship you. Yet it is possible that I should not say so to you, because you bewitch me, you tease me mercilessly, and I believe you could have me 'stand on my head’ as the human colloquialism states."

"That's a good idea, Spock, we'll try it some other day... And now, what about shutting up and taking me in your arms? I want to be held, I don't feel like doing anything... Only lying in your arms... Mmmm... yes.." Although he had not climaxed himself, he felt the delicious tiredness of afterglow invade his mind and lull him to sleep. _The emotional satisfaction of his climax must have been enough... _he thought as he drifted to a restful sleep in the arms of his Vulcan lover.__

 

 

PART II

ENCOUNTERS

 

At last, after much procrastination from Starfleet brass, the order had come through, the order they had all been awaiting: permission granted for the Gorn ambassador to carry on his mission. The Enterprise was to take him back to Earth, where the peace talks would take place, and would possibly lead to the entrance of the Gorn people in the wide brotherhood of the United Federation of Planets... There already were some strange races in the Federation: the Tellerites, for one! Although Kirk had never met a member of their species, he had seen them on holo tapes, and wondered how anybody born on Earth could dismiss their stunning likeness to one of Earth's most useful animaIs - if not one of the prettiest! _But they're not pigs, _he mused, _no more so than Gorns are reptiles. They have a highly developed civilization; they reached the Space Age before we did, and they are terrific politicians... About this Gorn – John, I mean would you believe it, we're on a first name basis -even if John Smith isn't his real name... He told me his name, but it did not sound like a name, it sounded just like a growl to me. And I've been unable to repeat it. He did say no human throat could pronounce it!___

Kirk rose from his desk, where he had taken the Priority One call, ready to announce the good news. He called a meeting of the senior officers and the Ambassador in one of the briefing rooms, then collected Spock on his way. The Vu1can had been working in one of the fourteen research labs on some of McCoy's tests. This was not strictly Spock's domain, but as McCoy had been busy checking another experiment, he had taken over for him. It was not the first time they had such small arrangements. As fellow officers, and fellow scientists, they had settled in that mutual pattern of help not long after Kirk had taken command of the Enterprise, and had had his old friend Leonard McCoy transferred to the Enterprise after Piper's retirement from active duty.

They did not speak in the turbolift as it carried them to the briefing rooms, Kirk mentally preparing the announcement he was going to make, Spock respecting his thoughtful silence. They entered the room together, and Spock thought fleetingly of Edith Keeler's words: "...by his side, as if you had always been there, and will always be." The young woman had been inordinately perceptive, Spock reflected, with her insights about space flight and interstellar peace and happiness. He could understand why Jim had been attracted to her. She had been a most worthy human being, whose loss was a shame and a waste. But she had been right, at the wrong time, as he himself had said to Kirk. There had been nothing that could have been done to save both her and their world. And Kirk had come so close to making the wrong choice! Had it not been for Spock’s shout - "Jim, no" - he would have saved her and condemned the world to the doom of the Nazi rule for a thousand years. _Yes, _he thought, _my place is at his side! Whatever happens, I will not willingly relinquish this place. McCoy is right, my jealousy could jeopardize it, and as Jim won't change, logically I must adjust to his point of view.___

As soon as they were seated, Spock’s attention turned fully to the proceedings. He listened respectfully to his captain's news. The officers congratulated the now-official Corn Ambassador, and Kirk convened yet another party to duly celebrate the event.

As they left the briefing room, Kirk called to his first officer, "Mr. Spock, a word with you in my quarters, if you please." He was always overly formal when they were on duty - at least on a normal basis; Spock could well remember occasions when the well-built façade had cracked, showing the concern beneath. On one such occasion Kirk had gone out of his way to defend him against the bigoted Lt. Stiles. When Spock had accidentally revealed their position to the Romulans, Kirk had not given him a single word of reproach, only a concerned look, knowing that Spock’s error was the result of long, exhausting hours spent in repairing the damages done to the ship.

They rode together to officers’ territory in companionable silence. Several days had passed since their return from the Guardian's planet and the encounter with the Gorn ship, and Spock had taken the liberty to use McCoy's generous offer. Since then, he had paid the doctor several visits, and McCoy had helped him understand that most of his jealousy had its roots in insecurity. As a hybrid, uneasy and unwelcome in both worlds, Spock could not really believe that such a beautiful, charismatic, and attractive human being as James Kirk could have willingly chosen to develop an intimate relationship with a "skinny, pointy-eared Vulcan male". McCoy had made him aware of the depths of this belief. “Had it been a one night stand,” McCoy had continued, “it would have reassured you.” He had raised a hand to quell Spock's forthcoming answer, and pursued his line of thought. “Yes, reassured. You wouldn't have had to contend with the relationship. You would have regretted forever not being able to keep him, but it would have been safer, easier, to deal with a memory of love lost than to deal with love itself!”

“The real thing's harder, Spock,” he had said, “but so much more rewarding. Of course, it can be so much more painfui, as you well know… But it's not a one night stand, and whatever it is, it is mightily important to both of you. If you want this thing to work, you have to free yourself from some of your assumptions. Spock, you're one of the most intelligent persons I've ever met; you have a brilliant career, good health, good looks, no money problems, and a lover almost everyone on board would envy you for. Start thinking positively, man! You've got everything that counts; don't spoil it all with non-existent problems. Fidelity is one of them. Jim takes nothing from you if he loves someone else. Stop thinking like an accountant! There is no balance in the amount of love somebody can give. The more Jim gives, the more he has to give. He's like that, you know; don't try and smother him, he'd lose all his power of love... Or else he’d dump you. My money's on him dumping you...”

This rather disturbing discourse had taken place on one of their first sessions; later on, McCoy had brought shades of grey to this black-and-white picture. He had admitted that part of the problem lay with Kirk, but, as Spock’s therapist, he had to treat Spock’s problem, and that could be done only by examining Spock's inhibitions. If necessary, he'd talk to Jim... later. Spock had concurred, and they had made considerable progress since then. The Vulcan could not have said he was happy with the situation, but he was beginning to see its inner logic and inevitability. Having finally accepted that Kirk would continue to love others, to be attracted to them from time to time, he had been able to start working on his own psyche. So far, he had not told Kirk he was seeing McCoy on a psychotherapeutic basis; he intended to do so today, during the peaceful time they’ spend together in Kirk’s cabin before the party.

They reached their destination, and Spock followed his captain into the spartan quarters he inhabited. Kirk's cabin was clean, orderly, and almost bare, save for a few books and a decorative representation of the solar system. The cabin, reflected Spock, was somehow pervaded with Kirk’s sensual presence, as if he had no need of a specific environment; he could be at ease wherever he lived. _So different from my own quarters, _thought Spock. _Vulcan all but rejected me, and yet I wished to transport it with me on board this ship.... I brought along the fire-shrine, the lytherette, the traditional weapons and tapestries that Vulcans find 'homely', even ad I fled from Vulcan, from the scorn and rejection I sensed in the other, fuIl-blooded Vulcans... Yes, McCoy is right. I was insecure. I still am. I wanted Jim to be 'a perfect Vulcan mate’ to me. What was I thinking about? He is not Vulcan, and neither am I. Why should we abide by laws and customs that don't concern him, and that I rejected _?____

And yet there was one nagging thought in his mind the terrible knowledge of his childhood betrothal to T'Pring, the betrothal that would become a lifelong mating bond when Pon Farr occurred. _If it occurs, _Spock thought, _I am already twenty years past the normal onset of Pon Farr in Vulcan males. No healer has been able to ascertain if I am free of Pon Parr, or if it is merely delayed. As years go by, they tend to believe my sexuality, at least, follows a human pattern, rather than a Vulcan one, but they are not sure. What if it does occur? No, I can't speak of this to Jim... there is no need... it won't happen...___

Once again Spock was able to dismiss his fears of what might be. Not even to McCoy had he explained this peculiar aspect of Vulcan physiology, and he knew it was not documented in his medical file. The only other Vulcans in Starfleet were all on board the Intrepid, with a Vulcan healer as CMO. There had been no need to inform McCoy on Pon Farr, since Spock was not likely to be subjected to it, and the Vulcan species was rather secretive about this infamous aspect of their physiology.

Spock’s mulling was interrupted by a cool hand on his arm. Kirk's door was open and he had been standing in front of it, momentarily lost in his thoughts. His lover smiled at him, and Spock, shaking himself, followed suit and entered the cabin.

"Spock, I’m very glad things are progressing so well! I was somewhat frightened that Starfleet Command wouldn't agree with the Gorn mission. But they have, and everything is going to be all right! I really like that fellow... John, I mean. He's a gentle being despite his rather... impressive... appearance..."

"Indeed, Captain, he has proved most worthy of our respect. He is also very intelligent, I have had severai intellectually rewarding discussions with him lately. Despite the fact that we had certain limitations to the amount of information we could divulge, he was most willing to exchange anything we could."

"Yeah... It’s strange, Spock, I was so scared when I first saw him! I was reminded of my nightmares, but now, it’s all gone... He's a starship captain, in fact we have much in common. I too had some meetings with him. He feels like me about the stars, space, the freedom it brings... Yes, much in common... "

"Captain, I am gratified that you have conquered your phobia of the reptiloid life forms. I, as a Vulcan, cannot understand such fears, but I witnessed their effect on you. I am glad that you are free from them."

"I am relieved too, you know. It kept nagging at me, I wondered from time to time if I were bigoted. Guess I’m not, and I’m relieved!"

Changing the subject, Kirk began to explain to Spock what he needed him to do for the reception. He wanted everything to be perfect, and Spock was to survey the setup of the party, take care of the list of attending officers, and so on. When Kirk was through, Spock departed to begin the preparations.

Kirk had much to do: his social obligations were not as important as his command ones but they were important enough. A Captain in his position aboard a ship bound for unexplored space and likely to meet new civilizations often had to act both as a diplomat and an ambassador. He didn't care much for the task, but he was proficient at it. But there was the quiet presence at his side of his Vulcan first officer, the supportive and calming aura he somehow managed to project to Kirk every time they were in close proximity at the necessary diplomatic functions. Spock’s presence had often helped him carry on smoothly and efficiently with the necessary social chitchat which inevitably was interspersed with crucial pieces of information that led to important decisions.

Kirk decided to use part of the time left before the party to review Starfleet orders about the Gorn mission, and the way they expected him to handle the situation. He was in fact appointed to begin the talks and had received from Starfleet Command "For Your Eyes Only" orders to prepare a preliminary report of the Gorn’s intentions and actions. _This stemmed, _Kirk reflected, _[rom the enthusiasm I put into my defence of the Gorn's trustworthiness. After all I went through such a short time ago, I would never have imagined putting myself on the line for a reptiloid! At least it shows I truly have surmounted that 'phobia', as Spock said... I hope he will be back soon and we'll be able to spend some time together. I can't seem to tire of touching him, holding him, loving him... Well, heaven knows I've never been a sexually deprived man, but this goes so deep that it sometimes frightens me... Oh, Edith, had you lived, how much I would have liked you to share this with me, with us... But you didn't even belong to our time... Yet I grieve for you, my gentle, far-seeing, star-struck dreamer...___

As he perused the Starfleet Command documents, part of his mind kept drifting away to his short time with Edith, and to the disturbing scene when Spock had broken his hand... Strangely, though he remembered the disturbing aspects of that moment, what was uppermost in his mind was their subsequent lovemaking, and how much it had excited him to have Spock so compliant, so... submissive. _He’s always been shy before, but he’d never wanted to be hurt, to be so utterly at my mercy. And yes, I loved it! I know his strength... He may not be as strong as a full Vulcan but he's still twice as strong as three Humans! That was what turned me on, his willingness to relinquish his physical strength to my lesser human power! Guess it was an atonement of sorts in the beginning, but God, did he enjoy it in the end!_

Kirk's thoughts, like an errant summer breeze, often wafted to another aspect of their physical relationship one he still found difficult to accept: Spock's newly revealed willingness "to practice anal intercourse on you" as he once stated with mock seriousness. Kirk had sensed the desire was real and, he had to admit, quite normal in a healthy young male like Spock. The difficulty Kirk experienced was not exclusively physical; he had not yet found great pleasure in this kind of lovemaking but it was distinctly becoming more and more painless with only a few more occasions to "practice." What disturbed him most was the mental aspect. He often found it almost impossible to sufficiently relax his mental barriers to enjoy the fact of not being the one in charge of their lovemaking. _I'm definitely flawed. During that last time I kept thinking I was assuming a "[emale role". 5hit! What's gotten into me? Besides 5pock?! _He chuckled inwardly at his unintentional pun. _I’m no [emale and I never think of Spock as a woman when L screw him! I like his being male, flat-chested, narrow-hipped and bony. I don't have any problem mistaking him for a woman, or wanting him to be one. So why? Why do I feel that way about myself? Hell, I’ll have to talk this out with Bones, guess he can help me understand. I can't say anything to 5pock yet; he'd believe I didn't want him to make love to me any more... Yes, Bones will help...___

Barely an hour elapsed before Spock's return to his captain's cabin. As usual he had executed versatile and complex tasks in a minimum amount of time. He had looked forward to the reunion with Kirk before the party. His usual efficiency had enabled him to perform his tasks perfectly.

As usual he buzzed at the door, partly to maintain the necessary military decorum, partly out of his ingrained shyness. Inside the cabin, Kirk smiled. He found this shyness a very endearing trait in his lover. He himself was far from shy in his behavior, although he sometimes used his bold exterior to hide the depth of his feelings and some of his vulnerability. So his t'hy'la's timidity never failed to arouse protective feelings in him. He pushed open the door button, and treated the Vulcan to a very special smile of his own.

As always, Spock responded to that smile, a smile he had once described as "bringing the starlight into your eyes". Even if the comparison was a little shop-worn, it was new for him to try to be so poetic about his relationship with Kirk. His background had not prepared him to be so open about his feelings. His Vulcan bride would expect restraint from him, except at the time of mating, the dreaded time Spock had decided would never come...

"Come here, you...” Kirk whispered, still smiling. Due to Spock's efficiency, they still had almost two hours left before the party took place, and both intended to make good use of them. The problem was, they didn't have the same activity in mind; Spock wanted to talk, while Kirk needed to evade the issue a little longer, and had planned to make love to his pa’oti. Pa’oti, Spock had explained, meant 'little one'. It was a Vulcan endearment he once addressed Kirk with. In spite of their difference in height and strength, Kirk often thought of Spock as his 'littlie one', due to the comparative restraint his friend still maintained in their relationship. The new boldness Spock had brought to their intimacy did not deter Kirk from thinking of him as such - indeed, it might have been an incentive!

"Pa’oti," he said softly as the Vulcan closed the distance between them, and shyly reached for his lover. "There's still time before we have to get into our dress uniforms for the party - what about getting out of our current uniforms for a start? It'll save us time later, don't you think?"

"I am not quite sure that saving time is your major objective in this instance, Jim," said Spock, who was indeed sure it wasn't! But he had renounced opposing his friend’s whims a long time ago - in fact, the very first time he had found himself in his captain’s bed, engaged in a most un-Vulcan activity with his commanding officer's full and eager participation.

Kirk never seemed to question the ease with which the Vulcan had found his way into his bed. He had no way of knowing that his friend was already committed to him. That was something he would learn later, to his dismay, for he had not, at first, considered his liaison with the Vulcan as something special. He had always liked aliens sexually, and was not averse to trying anything with any willing being of any sex. Spock was neither his most exotic nor his most unlikely conquest. What was out of the ordinary was the fact that he was presently engaged in a lasting affair with someone. At 29, when he took command of the Enterprise, he had never had any long term commitment. His affair with Carol Marcus had lasted three months, one month longer than the one with Janice Lester, back at the Academy.

His first lover, Ruth whatever-her-name, had been a one-night stand. A lovely woman he'd met at a party, much older than the 16year-old Jim Kirk. She’d initiated him into the pleasures of the flesh and she’d been damn good at it! He always thought kindly of her, but he had never been able to remember her last name.

There had been many people in his life, and in his bed, but none had stayed long in one or in the other. The only exception to date was Spock; and Edith could have been one, too.

Kirk had deftly maneuvered his friend to the sleeping area, where he tumbled them on the bed with a cleverly placed foot at the back of the Vulcan’s calf. He knew, of course, that Spock could have retained his balance; that was part of their unspoken agreement according to which Spock never used his superior strength in their private relationship. They landed in a heap, Kirk retaining the upper position with a twist in mid-air.

"Isn't that better?" he asked straight into a pointed ear. Then he blew in it. Much like a cat, Spock shook his head to suppress the minor irritation. Kirk blew again, and before Spock had time to react, licked at the savory appendage. He knew his lover could not resist his wet tongue rimming the sensitive area. There was a small, throaty noise in Spock’s direction, as he could not help voicing his appreciation of what was being done to him. His earlier decision to talk things over with Kirk was well and truly forgotten. He was still a little shy, but once aroused he needed to physically express what he felt, for he could not express himself mentally.

The desire to meld with his lover during intercourse had to be sternly repressed. There was no telling what this constant repression of this ever-increasing urge would do to his psyche or to his Vulcan well-being, but there was no other choice, and discipline was something he was well accustomed to. But more and more often he felt rather guilty about all the things he had never told Kirk and never intended to tell him. It was not deceit, Spock mused. It was... for Kirk’s protection, as well as for his own. Yet the unease remained, tormenting him every time he found himself in close quarters with Kirk. And yet, Kirk could so effortlessly make him forget his unease, whether with sensual delights or intellectual ones. He relished both kinds of activity in Kirk's company. Indeed, he relished everything in Kirk's company!

Some minutes went by, bringing new developments... For one, their clothes somehow disappeared without them being aware of when or how.

"Hmmm, yes, this, especially this, oh, there, yes, don't stop... "

"I never had the slightest intention of stopping, my dear First Officer. What about this?"

"Ooohh... "

"Science Officer, your brain's getting addled. Your information is not reliable. Please specify."

"I find... that I am unable to elaborate... Particularly if you obstruct my vocal orifice in this manner... “ mumbled Spock around a very stiff, very ready and very erect human cock.

"Don't worry, it won't last long. There's another orifice I intend to obstruct very soon."

Spock could not help but smile, and in his present position that was quite a feat! He loved it when Kirk was in one of his mischievous moods. At those times, he could imagine the young man and the boy Kirk had been. Full of fire and fun and life, 'working hard and playing hard’ as the human colloquialism stated. The very serious, very proper Vulcan First Officer of the starship Enterprise had a well-hidden, but very real sense of humor, and Kirk had never been fooled by the pretense of non-emotion. In fact, he had relied upon Spock's sense of humor in the beginning of their acquaintance, when he had teased him in a gentle way, slowly melting the Vulcan ice.

Kirk now had a Vulcan volcano on his hands! Spock was writhing and moaning from the reciprocal oral stimulation he was receiving from his lover. As Kirk had stated, he had other intentions, and began implementing them with a searching hand up one hip, around the little mound of a buttock and down inside the moist warm crack.

"Oh, Spock, I love so much to touch you here... You're hot, my pa'oti, hmmm, how does that feel? Tell me what you feel, tell me... "

"I feel... that I want to open myself to you, to be with you always as we are now... "

"My romantic Vulcan... " murmured Kirk to Spock's belly, where his head rested, He had pulled away from the taut erection and was idly toying with the Vulcan's engorged penis while fondling his buttocks "Besides, that would be some sight you and I on the bridge doing what we're doing now... I can just imagine everybody's face!" Kirk's shrill laughter filled the room, irresistible, communicative, even to Vulcan’s equanimity. When Kirk's mirth subsided he raised hooded eyes to his lover’s face, suddenly very serious and very eager. "Oh Spock, I love you, you know. I can’t get enough of you... I want to fuck you, I need to! Do you want it? Do you want me?!"

"There’s no need to ask, L'lgentha... I shall want you always...” Spock’s words were accompanied by a shift in position. He pulled Kirk upwards beside him. Then he opened his legs wide, granting Kirk access to the sought-for place between the small buttocks. Kirk began stroking the pulsating rim of muscles, feeling at once that Spock was already so excited he was wide open. He had no difficulty slipping one, then two fingers inside. Despite his usual tightness Spock felt only pleasure at the tender invasion. His lover's fingers dug in deeper, finding the sensitive place behind which lay the prostate gland. Pressure and stroking there were always a delight, and Kirk indulged his lover a long time, circling and pressing the soft inner walls of Spock’s rectum, feeling them pulse. He sensed that the Vulcan was on the brink of orgasm and asked in a low voice, "Do you want to come like this, Spock, or do you want all of me inside you now?"

"I want... more...” gasped the Vulcan. His eyes were tightly closed and Kirk could tell he was totally enthralled by the sensual pleasure of lovemaking. Suddenly he opened his eyes and looked directly into the expressive hazel ones above him. "Yes more… Love me more, deeper, harder... Jim, oh Jim," Kirk waited no longer. He pulled his fingers out and urged his friend to raise his legs and bend them back. When Spock was in this especially vulnerable position, Kirk carefully positioned himself between his thighs and entered him in a slow sensuous manner which drove the Vulcan to new sensual heights. There was not even the usual slight pain of entry, so moist and ready was he. There was no hindrance to the deepest penetration and Kirk was able to let himself go totally, pushing as far as he could. This proved too much even for Vulcan control and he moaned hoarsely in delight, writhing and squirming in total abandon.

Kirk wanted them to come together. He knew it could be achieved with good timing. If he waited long enough to be very close himself to completion he could manage to trigger his friend’s ejaculation scant seconds before his own. He maneuvered them to a sideways position, managing not to break their physical joining. _The hours in the gym pay off sometimes, _Kirk thought gleefully. He was able to grasp Spock's erection and stroke it in a powerful yet sensuous rhythm that finished the Vulcan off very quickly.__

Spock's body went rigid for a second then began to shake with the spasms of pleasure that coursed through it. The depth and strength of penetration alone had so sensitized him that he had needed very little added stimulation to come. He felt his internal muscles contract rhythmically and powerfully at the moment of orgasm. He did not even try to muffle the scream of ecstasy that rose in his throat.

Kirk released his control and followed in his lover's wake within seconds, overwhelmed by the sensations and by the Vulcan's openness. He also cried out, and it was Spock’s name over and over again like a chant, like a hymn to love and a charm against all evil. When the sensations faded back to normalcy, they were pervaded with a sense of well-being and belonging that was almost unbearably tender. They remained locked together until Kirk’s softening organ slipped from his living sheath, both feeling a little sorry at the end of the physical closeness. They nestled into each other's arms, sleepy but knowing they must remain alert for the oncoming party.

After awhile, Kirk raised himself and pulled a somewhat dazzled Vulcan to his feet, "C'mon love, we'd better shower! There's not much time left."

"I do not believe we are in any danger of being late, Jim. We still have 27.8 minutes before leaving."

"If we only wash in the shower we won't be late. You'll have to stop me from anything else... Guess I’m a sex maniac where you're concerned, by friend!"

Spock’s jealous opinion was that Kirk always was such, the person he was with notwithstanding. But he willingly pushed this train of thought deep in his mind, hiding his jealousy in the darkness where lay his unspoken Vulcan secrets. He concentrated instead on his social and professional obligations, the party he organized and that he and his captain were about to attend.

The party was a complete success. All the senior officers and the Department Head Officers were present. Attendance was not exactly mandatory but unofficially it wouldn't have been appropriate not to attend.

Dr. McCoy was one of those rather unwilling guests. Not that he hated parties - he adored them, but on his own terms! For one thing, he loathed the dress uniform obligatory for these formal occasions, the collar of which always seemed especially designed to strangle him. He also violently disliked the necessity of watching how much he drank on such occasions. His drinking bouts with Scotty were famous on the Enterprise grapevine. The maverick doctor and the steadfast engineer were friends in a strange way: they didn't have much in common except their single-minded dedication to their jobs. Scotty nursed his engines, his 'bairns’ and McCoy fixed up his patients. They both were solitary, secret men, never really sharing any of their inside feelings but showing a well rehearsed façade of joviality that fooled about everyone except each other, hence their cautious, guarded friendship and their periodic release in alcohol. In a time where no lasting damage could be done by drinking, thanks to the de-intoxicants, it was a rather harmless way to let out the steam... as Scott could have put it.

But these semi-formal occasions invariably grated on McCoy's nerves. He began casting about for his 'drinking buddy’ and saw him near the buffet engaged in a heated conversation with the Gorn Captain - _Ambassador, _McCoy reminded himself. _They're probably talking about engine design and comparing some of the non-confidential features of the Enterprise to the X'alic, each of them pretending his ship's the best! _McCoy thought. _Scotty would never admit there’s such a thing as a better ship than his own. Sometimes I believe the guy actually married his damn 'bairns'! Here, that's an interesting thought... He's a child molester, then! _The silly idea greatly amused McCoy who arrived grinning like a maniac beside the two debaters.______

"Aye, Ambassador," Scotty was saying, "I agree that the X’alic seems to be a good ship but there’s a... a soul in the Enterprise and I swear she feels different than any other ship I've ever boarded."

"You never boarded the X'alic, Mr. Scott," the Gorn remarked.

"Aye laddie, that is true! I intended no disrespect to your ship. Ah, here you are, Dr. McCoy," he greeted, "we were talking about our ships..." His voice trailed off as he took in the smile on the doctor’s face.

"Yes, Scotty, I figured that out. Well, carry on. I don't want to spoil your pleasure. I'11 just stay there and listen to you both. Please, Mr. Smith, take no heed of me." From his vantage point near the refreshments, he surveyed the whole rec room. _As usual, everything is perfect. Spock took care of it, of course! That guy can sometimes be annoyingly perfect... Well I know better, don't I? Ah, there they are!_

Spock and Kirk were together in the far corner of the room. As his guest of honor was otherwise engaged, Kirk felt free to remain in the company of his First Officer. They were talking quietly, their faces intent and serious, an occasional bright smile lighting up the Captain's features. _He's looking tired these days, _McCoy thought, _and that’s little wonder, with all that's happened recently... but when he smiles like that, he looks ten years younger! And Spock! He drinks up his every word. He doesn't smile. Mind you, Vulcans don't. But he has a way of quirking up his eyebrows that speaks volumes...___

McCoy felt in a slightly better mood now that the brandy - the Saurian brandy - was weaving its magic in his system. _Not too much, Leonard, _he told himself, _but a little drop ain’t no problem... Ah! I’d love a bit of R &R with Scotty and a nice warm little hooker in my bed... Been a long time... What was it the ancient poet wrote? I never quite remember those lines about loneliness and the empty feeling of aftermath when you lie beside a complete stranger – ‘cause it’s a French poet and my French is rusty... Must be getting old...___

McCoy’s eyes drifted away from his friends and took in the atmosphere of the party, which was becoming slightly more relaxed. The Gorn Ambassador was presently talking with, of all people, Uhura! She had had the strongest reservations about the Gorn and his mission, and now she was actually _smiling _at him. Then, to McCoy’s amazement, she began singing something in a low voice. The Gorn listened intently, his rigid, inexpressive features somehow conveying his raptured attention. As usual when she sang, Uhura attracted an audience. People began to gather around her, and Spock suddenly appeared, complete with lytherette and a smiling Kirk at his side. When Uhura had finished her current song, Spock took his place beside her and they sang Uhura's favorite song, "Beyond Antares". Their fellow officers warmly applauded.__

Kirk urged them softly to sing his favorite song: a love song from Earth’s past, the words of which Spock altered when he sang it for Kirk alone by replacing "her" by "him". This time, Spock sang the song properly, but he almost slipped when he came to their favorite part, the one Spock sang with velvet voice and velvet eyes: "... gaze on her all day, and melt all the night..."

As the beautiful melody unwound for the captivated guests, McCoy wondered once more how people could fail to perceive the love between the two men. _Maybe it’s obvious to me because I know it... We humans usually are adept at foresight once the deed is done..._

Spock and Uhura sang a few more songs, while almost everyone listened. The most enraptured guest was the Gorn Ambassador. His culture knew about art, beauty, and music. It did not know about singing. The rasping voice of the Gorn race barred them from the delights of song, but they were not deaf to the beauty of the sounds humanoid throats produced, as this particular Gorn was discovering. Besides its intrinsic beauty, the love song had conveyed something else to him. It had confirmed what he already had surmised about the close relationship Kirk and Spock shared. It was not a mere friendship. _But then _, reflected the Gorn, _they are different. Not so much that we cannot communicate, but enough to convey divergent signals. This is obvious to me. It does not mean it is obvious for their species. Thus I must not speak of it publicly. I shall have to address James and Spock in private. I trust that there will be some possibility. Later.___

The party went gleefully to its end. As host, Kirk had to remain until the last guest had taken his leave. Spock remained at his side, and so did the Gorn. McCoy slipped away sometime during the last half-hour, the bridge crew went their ways... But Uhura hadn't left alone, Kirk noticed. He'd always had an eye for pretty women and Uhura was very pretty... and available; she had often hinted as much. But she was not of command rank, and Kirk had always felt uneasy with the prospect of making love to Uhura. He liked her, he didn't love her. And he thought it would be unfair to the lady to give her the impression they could share more than a brief affair. She did not know of his relationship with Spock, and he could not tell her. Besides, an affair with _one _of his officers was enough! And his relationship with Spock wasn't casual; it had grown into love. A love he sometimes didn't know how to handle - a lover he didn't know how to handle. He thought of the recent crisis between them, a crisis that had not been solved. Events had postponed any examination they could have undertaken of their relationship. _But we’d better not forget there is a problem, one that we aren't going to settle by not talking about it, _mused Kirk. _It won't go away if we don't look at it! I have to talk this out with him. As soon as we have some time..._____

Then the last guest was gone, and there remained only the stewards, ready to clean the place as soon as Kirk departed. The Gorn had been talking to Spock. He turned to Kirk and asked, "Captain Kirk, I would like to speak to you privately. Would it be possible that you grant me an interview now?" Kirk glanced at Spock. 'Well... yes, of course. It is not so late. We are returning to officers’ territory. Will you come with us?"

He didn't even notice how natural and intimate his "we" and "us" sounded. But the Gorn captain did. And he bode his time.

Kirk left Spock at his cabin and entered his own with the Gorn. He sat behind his desk, and gestured to the chair in front of it, for the alien captain’s use. The Gorn sat down rather heavily, his powerful frame too big for the piece of furniture. It creaked, but remained whole.

Kirk was slightly tired; he had planned to spend some time with Spock, and then to sleep as soundly as he would be able. Nightmares still haunted him, nightmares where he saw Edith's twisted body after the truck had crushed her... Nightmares where he heard Spock crying out "Jim, no!"... And the worst nightmare of all, the one where he relived the moment where he flung himself at McCoy, preventing him from saving Edith. He had consciously accepted the necessity of what he had had to do, but his subconscious mind refused to accept the necessity for Edith’s death, and filled Kirk with a sense of blame for letting her die.

He knew that he was only too prone to take responsibility for the deaths of those he commanded, and for the wrongs that life sometimes did to those he respected or cared for. He had had to retain his balance and his ability to command. He could do no less for his ship, his crew. But it was at some personal cost. The nightmares were part of this cost.

As soon as the Gorn began to speak, however, Kirk's tiredness slipped away. The extraordinary things the alien Ambassador was saying captured his attention and forced him back to awareness. The Gorn was propositioning him, no less! And not only him, but Spock as well!

The last part surprised him most. Not the fact that the Gorn wanted to make love to Spock (after all, Kirk was in a position to know how much sex appeal his Vulcan lover possessed...) but the fact that Smith obviously knew that they shared more than a mere friendship. Kirk was astounded, too, at how little the prospect of making love with a Gorn disturbed him. He had taken to liking him so much that it seemed almost natural... yet what would Spock think? Kirk realized then that he had virtually agreed; his liking for strange experiments and alien lovers was well ingrained but he didn't want to hurt Spock. He had to discuss it with him.

The Ambassador and Kirk talked for a long time, the Gorn explaining his desire for a closer relationship: he belonged to a species which had no qualms about physical love. It was considered a normal expression of friendship and affection, much as Kirk himself viewed it, though not exactly as the Vulcans apparently considered it. _Or is it just Spock? _Kirk wondered. _After all, what do I know about Vulcans? The few I met at the Academy were so... self-contained. As was my shy first officer, in the beginning. Besides, Spock is half human, after all. He’s bound to be special...___

"I must talk with my friend first, John. I cannot answer for both of us. I must confess, however, to a degree of... anticipation... at your proposal. Besides, I’d like you to explain to me how you knew that we were lovers."

Kirk's question confirmed to the Ambassador that he had been right to wait and ask for a private interview. Not only the relationship was not obvious in their culture, it was also hidden, the Gorn realized. The "why", however, puzzled him, and he said so.

"It is not exactly... hidden, John. We felt it would be better to keep a low profile. Theoretically, there is no restraint on personal relationships in Starfleet. Practically, command personnel cannot conduct relationships with crewmembers. It is difficult, uneasy, and it could lead to charges of favoritism. Even if they're unwarranted, that's something a good commander can't allow to happen. In my case and Spock's, it's relatively more... workable. We're both of command rank, we're both aware of the risks involved, and we take great care not to let our relationship interfere with our duties. And believe me, it's not easy. Every time I have to send him into danger in the line of duty, I die a little inside. Yet, I do it. If I found myself unable to, I’d have to reconsider the whole thing."

Kirk looked thoughtful for a moment, then his stubborn mind came back to an unanswered question.

"Look, you still haven't told me how you knew about us. We don't act as lovers, public1y, only as friends. So, how... " His voice trailed off, as he began to understand at the precise moment the Gorn explained.

"I believe it is due to our cultural differences, James. In my culture, two people as close as you obviously are, who care for each other in so many ways, who spend a lot of their free time together, cannot be anything else but lovers. I realize now that this is not true in your culture. It happened to be true in your case, and Spock’s, but I understand now that closeness doesn't necessarily mean physical love. Therefore, if my proposal is offensive to you, I am prepared to withdraw it."

"No... I don't mean no, or yes either, at this moment. This is something I must think over, and discuss with Spock, as I told you. It is not unknown in my culture to express friendship and affection in this manner. It is not common, either. As for the Vu1cans..." His voice trailed off. The alien Ambassador took his leave, and a somewhat puzzled starship captain remained for a while in his cabin, staring at the wall...

It was quite some time after the Gorn’s departure, which Spock's keen Vu1can ears had informed him of, that he heard the buzzer at his door. They had discussed and agreed upon the necessity of maintaining decorum. It would not do for the captain to be seen entering the first officer's quarters without signaling at the door. Spock swiftly pressed the door release, admitting his captain inside the dimly lit, Vu1can decorated cabin. The reddish hue it gave Spock's pale features was strangely softening, creating shadows and gently molded curves on the angular face. The light particularly underlined Spock's lips, which were soft and generous, but usually went unnoticed, due to the normally stern face the Vu1can wore.

But now, in his quarters, he could let his affection, his love, show. He smiled at Kirk, a brilliant, radiant smile of welcome. He had noticed the rather drawn look his young commander had worn and was aware of the reasons. He knew Kirk had not been sleeping properly of late; and the nights they had shared a bed, Kirk had groaned and muttered in his sleep. He had tried to comfort him, but Kirk was an intensely private man. Spock knew he must have been trying to hide as much of his distress as he could. _And what of the nights he spends alone? _mused Spock. _When he moans in his sleep, my touch often seems to calm him, and he rests. Is he able to rest when I am not near him?___

Kirk answered back with a smile of his own, which lit up the tired eyes, giving Spock the distinct impression that a nest of butterflies had settled in his mid-section.

They came into each other’s arms quite naturally, as if this was the place they were always meant to be. They spent some time briefly hugging and petting - Kirk didn't feel up to anything else at the moment, and Spock, ever perceptive of his lover’s needs, gave him the closeness and warmth, and made no demands of his own. They went to the bedroom area and sat on the narrow bunk, still very close. Then Spock stood up and strode to the processor unit, where he ordered two drinks, two Saurian brandies. Kirk had introduced him, amongst many other things, to the delights of a1coholic beverage. Although Spock did not derive much pleasure from the ingestion of alcohol in itself, he had come to like the congeniality of sharing it with Kirk, late in one of their cabins, after a busy day. It gave him a sense of belonging, of being wanted, needed.

When he came back and handed Kirk his drink, he perceived his friend’s thoughtful aura. Settling back on the couch, he stared at him with that so-typical raised eyebrow.

"I guess we _do _have something to discuss," said Kirk, not misinterpreting the tiny movement. “I've been approached - in fact, we've been approached in the strangest of manners... by our friend, the Gorn Ambassador... "__

He related the entire encounter to Spock, up to and including his own willingness to participate in the relationship the Gorn offered. That point was the one Spock found most difficult. "Do you mean that you would really like to... have intercourse with the Ambassador and I, together? You are not doing this to accommodate the Ambassador’s needs... You are not being compelled in some way to accept?"

"No, Spock, I’m not. It would be too easy, somehow, to believe I had, we had, no choice. We do have a choice. And I want you to know that I won't argue if you don't want to do it. I've made my opinion plain. I’m afraid I know yours. We've never discussed what happened after... the Guardian..." His voice faltered; he still could not say Edith's name. "I want to let you know that I'll respect your decision, whatever it is. But I'd like you to understand that love is not like credits - you don't lose it when you share it with people. The more you love, the more love you have - not the other way around."

"I have difficulty grasping the concept of shared love, as you put it. I suppose I am better acquainted with another rather human emotion, the one you call jealousy. It is foolish of me, yet I find myself wanting to keep you for myself alone. I do not desire to share you, or the love I hold for you."

Anger flared in Kirk's mind. He _must _clarify the matter.__

"Spock, sharing me or not is a moot point. I’m not yours to share or keep, dammit! We're lovers, you didn't buy me! Stop being so narrow-minded! God, with your brains, you ought to be able to understand what you're saying!"

Stricken, Spock could not, dare not answer. He was only too aware of what his last fit of anger had provoked. He simply gazed at Jim with that seemingly unruffled look he had when he was subjected to Kirk's undeserved anger. His mind was numb. He did not know what he had done wrong, except his inability to understand Kirk's psychological makeup,

Despite his sessions with McCoy, Spock had not progressed much in his acceptance of Kirk's nature. He still could not integrate the fact of Kirk's need of others, and could not reality "feel" why he, Spock, had to do the changing. He was well aware of McCoy's arguments: that he would lose Kirk if he did not accept his friend and lover's complexity. Kirk was by no means a simple man, and Spock was conversant with his sophistication. Before the beginning of their affair, he had had many proofs of this. And the very way in which their affair had begun was another proof. It was miraculous, Spock had thought at the time, that Kirk, a man of such deep feelings, had chosen to lavish those feelings on one apparently unemotional, very shy and mixed-up half-Vulcan. _I was, at the time, a mere innocent by human standards. And Jim was much more sophisticated than the average human. Our coming together could have been a disaster... almost was... _Spock’s mind suddenly snapped back to the present. Ashamed, he recognized that he had sought refuge in the memories of the past. He was not going to solve his present dilemma by dwelling on things past. He had to offer something else to his friend than mere procrastination. Mustering all his strength, he spoke, shattering the awkward, almost palpable silence. He had schooled his voice to appear calm, a calm he didn't quite feel.__

"Jim, I apologize. I still do not know if I can participate in what you propose, but I am willing to try. I take it that you are no longer repulsed by the Gorn's reptiloid appearance?"

"Of course not. It is strange, though, that I went from repulsion and, yes, fear to attraction. I guess that when I discovered what a fine person he really is, I stopped seeing an Earth reptile and saw what he actually is: an alien of reptiloid descent, with a good mind and warm, human feelings... "

Spock almost smiled then. "Jim, 'human' is not a term applicable to Mr. Smith "

"Well, you know what I mean… I'll tell him tomorrow night, OK? My cabin will be best, though how we're going to manage with the narrowness of those Starfleet bunks! Guess the paper-pusher who agreed to the design must be at least two hundred years old, and must have forgotten everything about the sexual needs of young, normal people!"

"Usually, sexual intercourse, among most species, requires only two participants..."

"Oh, yeah? So what? Have you forgotten the times I've bumped my ass on the floor when we..."

Kirk almost jumped out of his skin from sheer surprise as a long-fingered hand sneaked round him and began petting the above-mentioned ass.

"Better yours than mine, Jim. It is much more naturally... predisposed... to cushion any shock it might be subjected to."

"Well, you lecherous Vulcan, I can tell you rather like this padding of mine. Now, don't you dare stop what you're doing... My rump loves your hands, too...”

All tiredness was forgotten, all discussions postponed, all misunderstanding buried, as they lay down on the discussed bunk and made slow, deliberate, delicate love to each other until they sank, exhausted and replete, into a deep and restful sleep. The dark Vulcan head was nestled on its pillow of flesh, mouth slightly brushing cooler, pinker skin; the Captain of the Enterprise had curled his arms about lean shoulders, and he was smiling in his sleep.

It was not without some trepidation that Spock awaited the ordeal (he thought of it as such) of the oncoming night. Yet he remained silent about it; he saw no point in reminding Jim of something he knew perfectly well. Spock was determined not to hamper Kirk’s enjoyment of the encounter. He had agreed to it. There remained a point - a very important point - to consider: were the Gorn's physical makeup and Kirk's compatible? The ambassador was of reptiloid descent and Spock’s research of Earth reptile physiology had produced some disturbing information: he could not be sure the Gorn had the same conformation that the Earth lizards possessed, but convergent evolution was an often-verified fact. It was just possible that the Gorn had the same sexual organs as the Earth lizards. In which case the coupling could be rather painful, even dangerous. He was not about to let Kirk run the risk of injury without warning him. He determined to discuss the topic with Kirk and the Gorn prior to any physical encounter.

 _It may not be good for romanticism,_ he thought wryly _, _but it is definitely safer!__

 

Kirk made the appointment with the Ambassador for the evening. The three of them were to share a meal in his cabin to begin with, then... It was up to anybody's ingenuity!

 

Everything was ready, and Spock was feeling desperately ill at ease as they waited together for the Gorn to arrive. Kirk looked happy and radiant and terribly sexy - at least to his Vulcan lover. _I wonder how attractive he _is _to other races. By Gorn's standard, I should think Humans would look ugly... But that is obviously not so, as the Gorn propositioned him...___ He sipped his brandy, hoping it would give him courage. He rarely indulged in alcoholic beverages, but then, this was certainly an occasion which called for it!

The meal went very well, and gradually Spock relaxed. The Gorn really was a nice person, as Spock had had occasion to notice during their scientific discussions. And Kirk's easy ways contributed greatly to Spock's increasing acceptance of the situation. When the meal was over, and Kirk invited his guests to his sleeping quarters, Spock followed suit with almost no reluctance. The alien Ambassador was visibly eager to get along with the planned activities, and Kirk positively beamed!

They sat together on the narrow bunk that Kirk had transformed into a sofa by pushing it to the wall and throwing a few big cushions on it. Quite naturally Kirk took the center place, and Spock steeled himself to speak of the Gorn's physiology and the possible incompatibility between his and Kirk's anatomy.

Spock in his naivete had not thought of his own involvement in this; he had envisioned himself as a mere witness. This became apparent to Kirk as Spock hesitantly raised the subject that was foremost in his mind.

Kirk smiled at him then, one of his special charming extra-warm smiles, the kind which made McCoy wonder about the discretion of their commitment… Taking his friend's hand in his, he then explained that he and the Ambassador had sought McCoy's advice on the feasibility of their planned encounter. McCoy, ever the pragmatist in such matters, had demanded to examine the Gorn, and had pronounced the encounter safe, provided a few precautions were taken on both sides. McCoy had deemed best, Kirk recounted, that he, Spock, have intercourse with Kirk prior to any encounter with the Gorn, to "prepare the way". Kirk had the grace to blush as he made the quite unromantic statement, and his flushed face began to stir Spock’s blood.

[ ](http://s1018.photobucket.com/user/Ammonet_one/media/gornphotocoyoutline-2.jpg.html)

He pulled the Human to him and kissed him while the Gorn's hand roamed Kirk's back, astonishingly light and pleasant despite the roughness of the scaled fingers. The kiss deepened and Spock’s inhibitions gave way to his passion for his beautiful lover. He lost himself in the feel of the soft hairless skin pressed against his chest, and even the occasional caress of the Ambassador's fingers was not as disturbing as he would have thought it would be.

Pressing Kirk back on the bunk, he knelt between his legs and pushed them back on Kirk's chest until the rosebud of his anus was exposed. The ever-ready lubricant appeared as if by magic in his hand, provided by Smith. Trembling slightly at the idea of accomplishing such an intimate act in front of a virtual stranger, Spock unscrewed the lid, squeezed a good deal of the scented cream on his fingers, and massaged it into the quivering orifice.

Kirk’s face, soft with love and pleasure, reassured Spock somewhat. As the fingers burrowed deeper into his rectum, the Human tensed and caught his breath. Spock was by now used to that moment of almost-pain, almost-rejection Kirk always felt when they engaged in anal intercourse. The first few times he had stopped in dismay, believing Kirk not to truly wish the joining. But his lover had always urged him to go on, explaining that he had some difficulties in accepting the receptive role, and this psychological problem asserted itself by a physical reaction. But he enjoyed anal lovemaking although he had yet to experience a full orgasm while being sodomized. The pleasure was somewhat duller than the one he felt when being the active partner, but pleasure it was, as attested by the fact that he often drifted to sleep in a contented haze after having –not - climaxed.

Spock intensified his stroking of the internal walls, pressing against the prostate gland, something Kirk adored. He watched as the tension subsided from his friend’s face. The Human sighed softly, and opened himself fully. Spock felt it, felt the sudden relaxing around his deeply-embedded digits, and knew Kirk was ready. He cautiously withdrew his fingers, replacing them with his also lubricated penis. He had doubted his ability to perform under such conditions, but his ministrations to Kirk had not failed to arouse him, and he was also ready and eager to proceed. He thrust with deep, languorous movements that soon took on urgency and momentum.

Kirk was flushed, gasping, the Gorn was stroking his hair, his chest, delicately pinching the rosy nipples, skimming the taut abdomen, and he felt himself rouse, his penis filling with blood, his balls tightening, preparing his body to orgasm. And nobody had even touched his cock! Kirk was amazed at his own response, but he didn't want to come - not yet! In a breathless voice, he begged: "Spock, please, don't let me come... I... want... to wait for..." His meaning was quite clear, if his words were not. Spock grasped the shining cock, and pressed strongly around its base, thus stopping the impending climax. He never broke the rhythm of his thrusting, holding himself on a single arm. Kirk's excitement subsided a little, but the now delicious sensation of fullness in his rectum remained. Indeed, it increased as Spock neared his own orgasm, the double-ridged head of his penis flaring wide at that precise moment. Kirk had come to love the way Spock’s orgasm felt in him. First the increased width of the organ which seemed to snuggle up to his inner walls, pressing on the prostate gland with maddening intensity, then the almost-withdrawal of Spock’s penis, the suddenly hard and deep thrusting as Spock buried himself as far as he could go, then remaining utterly still while the powerful pulsation of his orgasm filled Kirk with a wonderful throbbing heat that never failed to make him moan with love and pleasure. The soft cries and moans Spock usually emitted at these moments, punctuated by breathless babbles of "Jim... Oh, Jim..." were probably the most erotic sounds Kirk had ever heard. No one had ever moved him quite like that with their love cries.

While they were making love Kirk had been thinking mainly of Spock, of giving him pleasure, and of his own pleasure in the act, a pleasure that was rather new to him, but that he welcomed. Now that they were done with their coupling, Kirk thought of what was to come with the Gorn. Kirk and the Ambassador had had a rather free discussion with regard to the "technical details". The Gorn had expressed the desire to be the active partner in their encounter. Anyway, due to some peculiar features of the Gorn's digestive tract, he thought it impossible for a Human male to accomplish entry with their relatively unprotected and soft male organ. With McCoy's reluctant advice, they had determined what precautions to take. The stretching and lubrication provided by Kirk and Spock's lovemaking was part of these precautions. The other part was the Gorn’s promise to be very cautious and to proceed with utter care about the necessary anchoring that would take place once he was inserted in Kirk's rectum. This peculiar function of the reptiloid reproductive system was what frightened Spock most.

Kirk, always receptive to moods, sensed an uneasy moment as he cradled his spent Vulcan lover. The Gorn was still watching them, visibly enthralled. Spock’s eyes were closed, as if he wanted to avoid the truth of the situation. Then the Gorn spoke and Spock’s eyes opened suddenly. "James, and Spock, I thank you for sharing with me. You are indeed good to behold. I am grateful for your confidence. James, you know that you will feel some pain when we couple but I won't hurt you deeply. I shall be very careful. I hope the pleasure you receive will outweigh the pain. I think you should lie on your side, and Spock could help you to regain the erection he helped you to lose a moment ago... "

Kirk chuckled at the humor. "That’s a fine idea, my friend. Let’s do it! Spock, come here, touch me... Mmmh... Yesss... That's nice... " Kirk's comments were caused by a dual action of his partners, the Vulcan fondling his genitals while the Gorn carefully slipped his fingers into the relaxed opening. The scaly digits produced a quite strange but not unpleasant feeling as the reptiloid probed deeper, circling his fingers to further widen the welcoming channel.

As yet, the Gorn had not disrobed, and Spock wondered when he was going to. He was anxious about the alien's physiology, and wanted to see for himself; as he masturbated Kirk, his hand brushed against Smith's hand as it dipped into his friend, and he took a good look. It was strangely arousing, he realized, to see Kirk manipulated in such a way by another... His inborn shyness waged a losing war with the sheer eroticism of seeing his Captain and lover engrossed in being loved. The Gorn was caressing Kirk’s side now with feather light fingers... Surprising for a being whose movements were so jerky. But the awkwardness did not apply in slow motion, and it appeared the Gorn was much more capable of controlling small motions than larger ones. His hand strayed to Kirk's nipple, slowly delineating its small swelling, rubbing until it grew erect, hard and contracted under the exciting touch.

The Gorn had not known beforehand of the excitability of human nipples. He had no such feature, not being mammalian. He had merely been attracted by what appeared as an irregularity on Kirk’s smooth chest. He was intrigued and pleased by the result, the Human's moans indicating pleasure, as he had previously realized.

As for Kirk, the motion was both pleasing and reassuring. Somehow, sex with the Gorn Ambassador seemed more familiar, less alien, with the initiation of that touch, one Spock often used, and that he also used sometimes on the Vulcan. He was also keenly aware of the triple stimulation, the deep probing of the fingers in his ass echoing with Spock’s hand on his erection. And the whispering touch on his chest was delicious. He feared he would reach orgasm too soon; he wanted to wait for penetration, knowing excitement would help him forget the inevitable pain.

"You’d better stop that, both of you," he gasped, "or I'll be unable to hold on any longer, I’m gonna come if you... Oooo... " The abrupt withdrawal of all the pleasure points was nonetheless a disappointment; he was eager to be loved again. The Gorn pulled away and quickly took off the scanty clothing he was wearing. Two pairs of eyes went to the Ambassador’s erection. Two minds thought separate yet very alike thoughts.

_What a strange penis! And those outgrowths, I wonder how hard they feel?... He's right: it's gonna hurt! I wonder why I want this? For the sheer hell of it, I guess! I've always been... adventurous in my love life!_

_I carefully researched this matter and I think the conformation of the Ambassador’s reproductive organ will not injure Jim. Yet I am afraid. It is possible that some pain will occur when... Oh, Jim! You look so wonderful, so... sexy..._

Appalled, Spock realized he was actually waiting for what was to come. The idea of his beautiful lover being sodomized by the Gorn was exciting him so much he was again fully aroused.

The services he began to perform anew for Kirk weren't designed to lessen his excitation. He had taken the Gorn's place on Kirk's chest and resumed stroking the Human's cock. Then the Gorn took hold of Kirk, turning him on his stomach, and pulling him up so that he was on his hands and knees. Spock placed his dislodged hand around the taut genitals, cupping and squeezing the plump balls, caressing the phallic column while the Gorn carefully parted the twin mounds. He inserted his fingers again in the relaxed opening.

This time he devoted more attention to dilating Kirk's anus to capacity.

The Ambassador knew his organ was rather large by Human standards, and that the peculiarities of his physical make-up would render entry uneasy. He was determined to have James enjoy this lovemaking as much as possible. A little discomfort was inevitable, the Gorn knew. Yet it was not impossible that Jim could obtain pleasure in spite of a limited amount of pain. Indeed, sometimes it was a byproduct of pain, in matters sexual. That was true for the Gorn species, as well as for the Human species, the Ambassador had discovered in his research. Meanwhile Kirk was basking in his attentions, and in the sheer delight of having two people devoted to his sole enjoyment. Several of his most erogenous zones were being stimulated at once, and that was a luxury he'd rarely availed himself of. He could not tell which sensations were the best. They overlapped over one another, creating a web of well-being in the middle of which he became the still center, the place where time itself came to rest, creating a small transient enclosure of perfection in the course of ever-changing life.

Suddenly he felt a whispering something in his mind - a tendril of love, so pure and deep it was almost frightening. _Spock? _he whispered back in his thoughts. Somehow he _knew _with absolute certainty that this fleeting sensation was an emanation of Spock's innermost being. There was no verbal answer to his question but the... entity?.. conveyed the distinct impression it was indeed Spock. Then Kirk experienced a sense of regret and loss as the entity withdrew its immaterial presence. He was unable to untangle his feelings from those of the entity. He wished for it to come back, but that was not to be. Physical sensations became foremost once again, and he wondered if he had not made it all up. Spock was still very occupied with the stimulation he bestowed on Kirk's genitals and nipples, and gave no indication that he was aware something unusual had occurred.____

Spock was covering his turmoil extremely well. He was appalled at what he had almost done a moment ago. To attempt an unauthorized meld - worse, an _unethical _one... He was blissfuIly unaware that Kirk had felt the mental contact. Such abilities were uncommon in non-telepathic beings, if not unheard of. What worried Spock most was the fact that he had not consciously tried to initiate a formal mind meld, such as the ones they had shared in the line of duty. These were limited contacts, and his Vulcan disciplines were enough to prevent any unwarranted bleeding of thoughts from one mind to another.__

What he had felt in this brief, unwitting merging of minds had been... a homecoming. Jim's mind had been so full of love and acceptance, mingled with an almost childlike lust for life... The lonely, self-contained Vulcan who had spent years hiding behind his non-emotional facade could not help but yearn to seize this mind, this twin-soul, and bind it to him for all time.

Yet it was forbidden territory. He would never feel the deep pleasure of a mental union with his soul-mate. Despite his too-human ability to hide from the truth of his betrothal to T'Pring, he _knew _without the shadow of a doubt that he and Kirk would never really become t'hy'las... Even as he delighted in the sound of his lover's voice pronouncing what he believed to be a Vulcan equivalent of “beloved”. Yes, t'hy'la meant beloved, brother, and friend. These things they were for each other. And it also meant soul-mate. _That _meaning was reserved to T'Pring, on the day he would marry her... Suddenly it all seemed like a sick joke to Spock. It was impossible! He had no desire to be linked forever to T'Pring! Yet there was no way... and that day might never come...____

He shook away his impossible yearnings, his too-real fears, and immersed himself in the present. He plunged in the pleasures of the flesh to forget the forbidden pleasures of the mind...

If McCoy had been in Spock’s mind right at this moment, he would have said that the Vulcan was reacting in a "grab what you can and run" way.

And the Vulcan ran. He ran into a sensual world where feelings alone ruled. Brief as the reprieve was, it was worth taking.

And so, Spock of Vulcan delighted in his lover’s growing excitement. He revelled in the touch of that very sensual human being. He had anticipated the moment when his friend would be penetrated by the Ambassador, and it was his hands that parted the lush, round buttocks in a symbolic offering, an acknowledgement that he was ready to follow his Human into the realms of passion - for he would be forever unable to join him in the realms of the mind.

Kirk's breath caught when he felt Spock's warm hands on his butt, holding him open for penetration. The Ambassador proceeded very gently, and the pain of entry was minimal. The alien penis was wide and rough-textured, but Kirk had been well prepared. He felt the pressure inside, deep in his guts, and it was strangely exciting. The nimble fingers of his Vulcan friend had returned to his yearning manhood, and were doing wonders with his senses. He knew he would need very little more stimulation to come. It was amazing: he had once feared that particular act, although he had not known it at the time; he had wanted to give Spock something he needed, and discovered his own fears in the process. He discovered also that he was able to surmount his fear for his lover's sake and here he was, wildly enjoying what was happening to him!

"James," murmured the Ambassador in a low voice," I shall anchor myself now. Remain calm and relaxed. Spock will help you. Do not fight it."

The Vu1can began to trace wide, soothing circ1es on Kirk’s abdomen, in a motion he knew his friend loved. His fingers skimmed the warm, slightly rounded belly, adding pressure from time to time. He felt the tremors Kirk could not repress when the spiked protrusions of the Gorn's penis emerged and sank into his rectal walls. The Ambassador was very careful to keep the anchoring light, as human bodies were not as tough as reptilian ones in this matter. Yet there was pain, as he had surmised. He could feel it in the tensing of the body beneath him, in the spasms that coursed through Kirk’s insides.

"I will give you time, James. Try to relax. It will be easier if you are not so tense. Please, calm yourself." The Gorn's pleading was accompanied by his fingers softly stroking Kirk’s sides and shoulders. Spock had not ceased his ministrations, and was pleased to feel Kirk’s erection, which had dwindled away at the moment of anchoring, returning under his questing fingers. The Human had not uttered a sound since the insertion. In fact, he had bitten his lips to stop from crying out. He had feared that Spock would demand that they stop if he showed pain. And he did not want to stop. The pain was not that bad, and it was diminishing by the moment. The excitement of it all prevailed again, and he felt his erection growing anew under the expert fingers of his Vulcan lover.

When the Ambassador felt the relaxation in Kirk's body, he initiated the gentle vibrating motion that was for his species the equivalent of the thrusting one needed by most mammalian species to reach orgasm. It was barely a movement, more like a kind of internal massage that Kirk found terribly exciting. What little pain he was experiencing was totally forgotten, submerged by the incredible feeling in his rectum. He moaned with the sheer sensuality of it all, spurred to urgency by the variety of the stimulation he was receiving.

The Gorn was engrossed in his own pleasure, and his breathing grew louder as his hands closed around Kirk’s waist, holding him securely in place. Spock was lying under his lover and had taken the hard cock in his mouth, ready and willing to bring Kirk to completion in this way. Waiting for them to reach the peak…

When it happened, it was strangely quiet. The Gorn released his seed with a small cry, his hands tightening on Kirk's quivering belly. When Kirk felt the spurting inside him he let himself be taken by his own climax, by the wet mouth that was pulling him deep in the Vulcan's throat. He came strongly and let Spock suck him dry.

After awhile he felt the Gorn slowly retracting the protrusions, then slipping out of him. They fell on the bed in a tangled heap, exhausted and satisfied. Later, the Gorn gently extricated himself and slid on the floor, where he slept for the remainder of the night. _These bunks really _are _too small,___ thought Spock as he drowsily reached to Kirk to prevent him from falling with the sudden shifting of weight. The Human, more than half-asleep himself, cuddled up to the warmth of his companion's body with a murmured endearment.

Spock's heart skipped a beat when he heard the words his Human was whispering.

"Mmm... Hold me, Spock… Sleep well, t'hy'la... "

With a guilty conscience, but a contented soul, he pressed the Human close to him and they slept.

McCoy, ever the mother hen, had insisted on examining Kirk "the day after", as he put it. He had added delicately, "and send me that Vulcan of yours, as well, if necessary."

As it turned out, Kirk was not the only one to visit McCoy for professional matters that day. Spock's rendezvous was not motivated by physical reasons, but Kirk was not to know of the visit. Kirk dutifully went to Sickbay for the required examination, not a little annoyed at McCoy's insistence on performing it. Yet this was not the first time he'd had to submit to the doctor's fussing in these matters, and Kirk had to admit that McCoy was as unobtrusive and as helpful as possible.

McCoy was as gentle as ever despite the awkwardness of the situation. Once in his "medical mode", he had no qualms in doing whatever was necessary.

"There's not much damage," mumbled the doctor. "Just take it easy for a couple of days... Meaning, _no _intercourse for the time being. I guess it must sting a lot?"__

"Well, some..." blushed Kirk.

"Good! It will help you comply with my medical orders. I know how stubborn you are, Captain! Here, use this as often as necessary. It’s slightly anaesthetic, and will help the tissues to heal quicker."

"Thanks, Bones," said Kirk as he took the applicator tube. He would not have tolerated any untoward remarks from the doctor. Yet he had sensed during the examination that McCoy had been about to say something, and had stopped himself short. Shrugging, Kirk dismissed the feeling as he left Sickbay for the mess hall to get something to eat before his shift began. Spock was waiting for him there. Smith had gone back to his quarters upon awakening, as the Gorn did not take his breakfast in public.

It was later that afternoon, after the day shift had finished, when Spock came to Sickbay to meet McCoy as arranged. Spock was troubled by his eagerness to participate in the previous night's activities. He needed to talk it out with the doctor. McCoy put on the "do not disturb" light on his door, and they talked a long time.

The Vulcan could not fathom why or how he had been able to perform under those circumstances. This was compounded by the fact that he did not feel free from his possessiveness.

"Start from the facts, Spock! You believe you shouldn't have been interested, yet you were. You believe you're still jealous, yet you demonstrated otherwise. Let's see: what did you feel exactly when Jim and the Gorn...?"

"This is what I cannot understand, doctor," Spock answered in a low voice. "I felt... expectation."

"You were sexually excited, right?"

The Vulcan hung his head and mumbled something McCoy could not hear.

"What, Spock? I couldn't hear you. I don't have those keen Vulcan ears of yours, y'know."

"I said yes, doctor. At the moment, I... did not think. It just... happened."

"Seems to me you're making progress. Love is not logical, as you are discovering. It just is. We Humans have had to learn to do with it. As we are a very emotional race, we must strive to instill some logic and sense into a very illogical activity. I'd say for you the reverse is true. You were bred with a total belief in logic. That was a little... your mother is Human, isn't she? I guess your father demonstrated some of the illogic of love when he chose her."

"I would rather not discuss my parents, doctor. They have no part in my present choice of life."

"Oh, but parents always have! You may not be aware of it, but believe me, it’s true nonetheless. Look, Spock, try to _accept _that you enjoyed the whole thing. There's no shame in it."__

"I shall try, doctor. I shall try."

 

Spock was a little less troubled when he exited McCoy’s office. He had looked forward to a quiet evening with his friend, but he was currently engaged in some research that had reached a turning point and needed his attention. He made for the labs and immersed himself in his work. Quite logically, he aimed at getting rid of the job as quickly as possible. He knew Kirk was not idle either, as Mr. Scott had devised some improvement to the warp unit, and was eager to show it to his captain. They would discuss the possibility of implementing the new fixture, and it could take some time. Kirk was able to understand warp drive and matter/antimatter propulsion only on a general level, and he would require a lot of explanation before his agreeing to anything that could potentially be a liability.

It was rather late when Kirk made it to his quarters, having worked out a schedule with Scotty for manufacturing of the additional device for the warp drive. It was quite interesting. It would diminish the strain on the matter/ antimatter receptacles, and thus enable the ship to maintain higher warp speeds for longer periods. It could prove invaluable in an emergency, Kirk thought as he wearily opened the voice lock of his cabin. He felt the beginning of a headache, and it somewhat spoiled his anticipation of an evening with his lover.

Kirk went through the bathroom and knocked at Spock’s door. Spock was immediately there, opening the door almost before Kirk had finished his movement.

"Hi, Spock. I didn't know I'd spend so much time with Scotty, but it was worth it. He designed something really clever... as far as I can understand. I won't pretend to grasp all the technicalities, but the implications are... "

They talked for some time of the day’s events, Kirk using the quiet conversation to unwind and put things in perspective. As usual, Spock let his friend talk, from time to time putting in a word or a remark that would help Kirk in this dally introspection. Then the Vulcan recognized from his captain’s unease the telltale signs he had come to know so well.

"Jim, I surmise you have a headache, have you not?"

"Oh, it's nothing. It’ll pass, don't worry."

"On the contrary, it seems to have increased in the last half-hour. If you would let me... "

He rose and came behind Kirk's chair, beginning to massage his neck and shoulders. His strong, lean hands moved in soothing circ1es, and the pain eased somewhat. Then the Vulcan's hand went up to the skull, slid to the temple where lay the source of the ache. Kirk had closed his eyes and was enjoying the relief. Spock’s fingers were doing wonders for his headache, and he could feel them pressing on his temples in a strange pattern that he recognized after a few seconds.

"Spock? Is that a meld you're performing? Mmmm... it's nice. The pain is gone... "

It was a credit to Spock's Vulcan upbringing that he did not outwardly show his guilty surprise. He kept his fingers in place a little longer, concentrating only on controlling his breathing and trying to understand this unforgivable lapse. For it _was _indeed a meld. Not only an unauthorized one, but one he had not initiated consciously. He had been brought to awareness by Kirk's murmured words. Kirk could not know that his friend was acting in an unethical way. Spock evaded the issue.__

"It is merely... a Vulcan technique." _Not a lie __Spock thought wryly. _But not true either. At least I was prevented from going any deeper. I _must _learn to control this. I _must!_______

Kirk was a little sleepy, and weak with the relief from his headache, which otherwise would have barred him from a restful sleep. He rose and stood behind the still standing Vulcan. "Why don't we call it a night, hmmm? I’m beat. I don't even have the strength to shower. Sleep with me? Though I’m afraid I won't be any good tonight. .. I'm likely to fall asleep on you if we... "

A twinkle lit Spock’s dark eyes. "You do not have to apologize for not being superhuman, Jim. Besides, I can sleep with you outside of any sexual activities." He paused, then added shyly, "I... enjoy your nearness, whatever the circumstances."

Kirk hugged him hard, and they made it to Kirk's cabin after Spock had rerouted his intercom to the captain’s quarters, and reprogrammed the beep to sound differently than Kirk's, enabling them to know which one of them was actually being paged.

Once in bed, Kirk remembered about the cream McCoy had given him. He was determined to shorten his recovery time as much as possible, and so he got out of bed to fetch it. When he saw the interested gleam in his lover's eyes, he handed him the tube, his own eyes also glinting. They did not exactly make love, but a medical necessity was turned into a very gentle, very tender foreplay by a certain eager Vulcan who was adamant that his lover, having relinquished the applicator, would certainly not touch it again!


End file.
